Someone You Loved
by IDontKnowYourSignal
Summary: The first notes from the violins interrupted the buzzing crowd, sending a murmur around the room. After a few bars, the tenor of the cello joined them, with the rest of the orchestra following moments later. A tentative glance towards the couples confirmed just how happy they were. But then, a Strauss waltz had a way of warming a cold heart, had a way of drawing a smile.
1. Chapter 1

_Now the day bleeds  
Into nightfall  
And you're not here  
To get me through it all  
I let my guard down  
And then you pulled the rug  
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved_

The first notes from the violins interrupted the buzzing crowd, sending a murmur around the room. After a few bars, the tenor of the cello joined them, with the rest of the orchestra following moments later. Curtseying women in colourful satins and silk smiled to men bowing in tuxedos and tails, before joining hands and moving as one around the floor. A tentative glance towards the couples confirmed just how happy they were. But then, a Strauss waltz was liable to do that. It had a way of warming a cold heart, had a way of drawing a smile. Before you even realised, it would take hold, and have you humming along to an all too familiar tune.

But not tonight. Tonight, nothing, not even one of Strauss' best loved waltzes, "Tales from the Vienna Woods", a hometown favourite, could draw a smile. Not a real one, anyway. The night had just begun, but there certainly wasn't going to be any dancing. No, none of that tonight. No joining the happy couples circling around the middle of the room. It would be pointless trying to force heavy feet to move, let alone expect them to be light and carefree when they felt weighed down with lead.

Even the first glass of champagne, offered on a silver tray by the smartly dressed waiter only moments ago, was unlikely to coax a smile. No amount of wine or liquor tonight could lift this dark mood. A dark mood so out of place amongst all the colour and _joi de vivre_. With everyone in the small circle now holding a glass, it was time to offer a toast, the chinking of glasses the cue to force a smile. _Good health and happiness._ It was such a ridiculous thought. At any other time, it may even be amusing if it wasn't so bizarre, so inconceivable. Forcing a smile, was one thing. Happiness was something entirely different. Resisting a sigh, it was going to be a long, tedious night. An agonising, difficult chore. But, unfortunately, a necessary one.

It had already been far too long. But then, just how long _is_ too long? Is there any way of knowing? When does it reach that magical tipping point, when trying to heal and survive in your own private Hell becomes something far more serious and sinister? _Avoidance. Escape. Self-preservation._ All so easy to justify. All so easy to cling to as excuses. But then, well-meaning friends may have been right. _Time to face the world again._ Standing here now, it was easy to accept it may have been better facing up to things before now. Didn't they say you should get straight back on the horse, so to speak. Perhaps it had been a mistake to shut out everyone except the closest of friends. After all, you can't avoid the inquisitive crowds forever. And it had felt like forever.

_Six weeks, three days, a little over twenty-two hours. _

And yet, it still felt like yesterday. It still felt just as raw, and no less painful. What was that other silly saying, something about the passage of time? Some nonsense about time healing wounds. Useless, patronising words uttered by gullible fools without a clue. The wounds hadn't even begun to heal. They were open and gaping, exactly the same as the night they were inflicted. With an aching heart now a familiar, constant companion, it was hard to believe they ever would heal. Turning back to the circle of close friends, drawn by a witty quip from someone in the small group, it had never been so hard to force a smile. _Wasn't this supposed to be getting easier?_ Time hadn't healed a single, damn thing.

Taking a sip of champagne, even that tasted flat and dry. Like the dregs of a barrel from a disappointing vintage. But then, nothing really was the same these days. How could it be? Everything, not just the wildly expensive champagne, but the extravagant food, even the summer turning into autumn had lost its flavour, its colour, its charm. Everything, the entire world and everything in it, now seemed sombre and bleak.

Trying to push away the melancholy thoughts, it was time to risk another glance at the crowd moving around the floor. Yet another reminder of happy couples, of what should have been. It was easy to point out the men holding the women they'd be making love to tonight. It used to be a game. Now it was just a painful reminder of what would never be. It was just as easy to find the men dancing with the woman who were little more than strangers, but who were about to capture their heart and set their world alight. It was difficult, almost unbearable, watching all the men being captivated by the beautiful, vivacious women, flirting and teasing along to the strains of Strauss as they waltzed around the room.

But, as difficult as it was to watch, it was impossible to look away. A stark reminder of the lonely evening ahead. It was odd, that feeling of being so utterly alone in a room surrounded by so many people. It was a happy crowd, brimming with cheer and revelry. Why wouldn't it be? Everyone looking forward to the upcoming party season, a long winter of balls ahead. There was a pang of pain, trying to decide what was worse. The long, bleak night that lay ahead, or the dark, lonely winter to come.

Rather than spend the evening standing here, juggling the same, lukewarm glass of champagne, it may have made more sense to dream up another apology. Find some way to brush off this damn invitation, like all the others. After all, sitting at home alone in a dark room, or just escaping to bed to hide would be better than this. There must be some excuses left. Surely, they hadn't all been trotted out yet?

At least at home, there wouldn't be this maddening, happy crowd. Usually keen to soak up the attention, the glare of tonight's spotlight was already wearing thin. Over the weeks, it had been enough of a struggle under the scrutiny of close friends. Brushing off their concern had been bad enough, but avoiding their searching eyes far more difficult. As much as their efforts were appreciated, they could only do so much. With all of tonight's distractions, it should be easier to look away from them, to get caught up in the crowd, to just drift away and lose yourself in the evening.

But even the briefest glances at the nearby crowd were difficult. Trying to find the balance a struggle. Bravely facing the inquisitive stares head on, while not wanting to dwell too long in case any hint of pain was revealed. Juggling the two was almost impossible. Perhaps avoiding all eye contact was best, just in case they saw through the bravado and forced heroics. What did they say? The eyes are the windows to the soul. Yet another ridiculous, trite saying. But with the next wave of tears unpredictable and never far away, best not tempt fate. Where was that legendary confidence and charm?

Taking a second sip of champagne, it tasted just as odd as the first. As tempting as it was to just stare blankly at the floor, that would only signal defeat to everyone. _Head high, shoulders back._ Turning back to the laughter from the small trusted group, it was easier to just find a spot on the wall and stare at that. A far safer option. Another forced smile at a joke that could have been about anything.

Glancing back towards the dancing couples, it was obvious who everyone in the crowd was looking at, who their whispered conversations were about. Let them have their fun, they'd soon grow tired and move on to something else. Something far more interesting. It was always going to be like this. After all, it was the first time. Whether it was tonight, next week or next month, it wouldn't be any different. The first time in six weeks, three days and twenty-two hours. Perhaps it was now the twenty-third hour. They'd been here a while now, or did it just seem time was dragging. The tired, exhausted mind playing another trick. Honestly, it felt like they'd arrived hours ago.

Usually, a ballroom filled with a partying crowd would provide solace, an atmosphere to revel in. With such enviable status, a sharp wit and magnetic charm, dominating any room had always come easy. It had never taken much of an effort, blessed with a presence that all the crowd was naturally drawn to. But tonight, was entirely different. Tonight, everyone's attention was unwanted, it was for all the wrong reasons.

A quick glance in the direction of nearby laughter found a group of women, not even having the good manners to conceal their gossiping. Normally, it wouldn't have any effect. Normally, it would be worn like a badge of honour. Their gossiping just simple jealousy or envy, over something petty. But tonight, it was different. It was heartless, a chance to take a cheap shot and land some blows. And their cruelty _was_ hitting its mark. _Head high, shoulders back._ The words kept playing over and over again. Where was that unshakeable confidence?

The room was starting to feel stuffy, the air was stifling, making it hard to breathe. Going outside to get some air would make sense. But that would mean walking through the crowd. Too much of a coward to move, it was easier to try and hide in the back corner of the room, a strategic spot claimed earlier with a few trusted friends providing some protection. Best to stay here and ignore the light-headedness and dizziness that, for once, couldn't be blamed on the champagne.

Swallowing a sigh, forcing it past the ball of tears, one thing was certain. It was going to be a long, tedious evening. _Head high, shoulders back. _Perhaps it was paranoia, just an addled mind jumping to the conclusion that everyone was looking in this direction, talking about the same thing. A mad mind driven by endless sleepless nights, too many days spent inside your own head. But it did feel like the entire room was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

Her. Her humiliation. And her poor, aching heart.

Not that anyone cared too much about her heartache. She wasn't that deluded. Everyone was having far too much fun to care about her feelings. Anyway, she wouldn't let them see her pain, wouldn't give them the pleasure. Her close friends could guess how hurt she'd been, still was, but she hadn't said anything. Not even to them, not even when she'd first returned home. Saying things out loud, just made them more real. It would force her to confront the pain and humiliation. She refused to do that. Much easier to pretend it didn't really matter, that it never really did. Blinking away the all too familiar sting of tears, she looked away, risking another look at the crowd.

"This little number?" she turned back to a question from a well-meaning friend wearing a concerned look. "Oh, just an old thing I found hanging in the back of the wardrobe." Even brushing off trivial questions with glib answers was difficult. Perhaps they were right to be concerned. In the past, she hadn't needed an excuse, or even an invitation to a party to visit the dressmaker or boutiques. But this time, for once, her heart wasn't in it. Why did everything, even the everyday, seem so difficult?

Trying to force one of her radiant smiles, she managed to shift the concern from her friend's eyes. But was it concern? Perhaps she'd been mistaken with her mind dulled from lack of sleep and the room feeling like _it_ was spinning rather than the couples on the dance floor. After all, it was easy to misread these things. Perhaps, deep down, she knew it wasn't concern, but it was just easier to pretend. She didn't want anyone's pity. She'd never asked for anyone's pity or sympathy in the past, and she wasn't about to start. Certainly not tonight. Not in this room of heartless gossips.

Her eyes moved away, back to the dancing couples, as she reminded herself to lift her head, to hold it high. _Shoulders back._ She had nothing to be embarrassed about, nothing to hide. She wasn't to blame. No one was. Sometimes, things just didn't play out the way you had hoped. That was life. God knows, it wasn't the first time she'd been dealt a bad hand. It probably wouldn't be the last. Perhaps she should have fought a little harder. But what for? A life with a man whose heart was clearly somewhere else.

As the night's first waltz came to an end, she turned her mind back to the conversation going on around her. A friend was relaying the latest _haute couture_ trends discovered on a recent visit to Paris. It wasn't what they'd usually be discussing at one of these parties. No, their conversation would cover much more interesting topics. Taking another sip of champagne, it tasted as bitter as the realisation that until tonight, she'd been one of those gossiping women. How many hours had she spent picking through the wreckage of other people's marriages, their scandalous affairs, and innuendo so salacious, it could only have been made up. Life certainly had its own sense of humour. What did her late husband used to say? Its own way of balancing the books.

And little wonder the other women had been so quick to the turn the tables on her. How swiftly she'd fallen. Going from being engaged to the country's most eligible man to miserable and alone within hours. It may have been easier if the other woman hadn't been right under her nose. _The damn governess._ A postulant, practically a nun, who was probably only half her age. Awkward and naive, as unruly as her charges. She bit down on the tears and bitterness building in her throat. _Head high, shoulders back, brilliant smile._

There was one small mercy. At least their engagement hadn't been announced. The whole sorry thing hadn't even lasted long enough to make it to the newspapers. Feeling the sting of tears again, she consoled herself, it could have been much worse. But still, Georg had courted her for so long, many just assumed they'd already formalised the arrangement…

"Maybe a little later," she nodded to a silver-haired man gently touching her elbow. She forced a smile for him. It had been a very kind invitation to dance, but she wouldn't be accepting his offer, or his pity. Besides, she thought as she watched him walk away, didn't he realise dancing was the last thing on her mind tonight. "Oh, I'd much rather hear all about this wonderful little trip of yours," she forced a smile as she turned back to a friend's look that wavered between concern and encouragement.

Having successfully deflected the attention away from her, she forced herself to focus on the upcoming trends for winter. Perhaps that's what she needed. Some time away. Not Paris, it held too many memories. An escape from another Austrian winter to the Mediterranean was always a tempting option. And it would mean avoiding more of these evenings. But she'd never been one to run and hide. Somewhere between Chanel trouser suits with their bolero-style jackets and gypsy inspired evening gowns, the lure of warm sun and balmy evenings started to take hold…

Her thoughts stopping suddenly, she froze. Surely, she'd been mistaken. After all, her mind had been playing endless tricks on her these past weeks. But there it was again. _Don't turn. Don't turn around._ She could feel the colour draining away from her cheeks, that wave of panic starting to rise. As if her humiliation couldn't get any worse. The only escape was at the far end of the room. It would be too risky. Their paths would have to cross. She couldn't face that. Not here. Not now.

Straining her ears, there it was again. A laugh her instincts had learned to pinpoint in a crowded room. She could locate the man blindfolded, she thought grimly. Her heart started breaking all over again. She wasn't mistaken, she'd recognise that laugh anywhere, even with the orchestra and the murmuring crowd. And, just in case there was any doubt, he said something. It was only a few words. But it was enough.

That rich, unmistakable baritone…

**I have been horribly unkind to poor Elsa in my past stories, so I decided some time ago that I really should try to put myself in her well-heeled shoes and start making amends.**

**I'm not sure this will undo all my past sins, but a little penance may be enough to get me back into the fold of the Baroness Fan Club. Although, it may be too little, too late for that!**

**The title of this story is inspired by "Someone You Loved" – a beautiful, but heartbreaking song by Lewis Capaldi.**

**I still don't own TSOM, just back having a lend!**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	2. Chapter 2

_Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

Edging forward with the crowd, she stared straight ahead, concentrating on the swept-up hair of the woman standing in front of her. Trying to ignore the people and the noise around her, she'd been trying to distract herself with the woman's intricate hairstyle. But it really wasn't working. Perhaps if she started counting the many pins holding it in place, that may help. But she doubted it.

She hadn't missed the gasps from a group of women they'd just passed. She could still feel their eyes on her, could hear their whispering. Now they were laughing amongst themselves. That cruel kind of sniggering, which quickly follows a spiteful comment. _Why they were being so unkind?_ She didn't know them, and they didn't know her. She'd never seen them before. In fact, she'd be happy if she never saw any of them again.

Tightening her jaw, she wondered why they were being so spiteful and hurtful. Had she done something wrong? Committed some major _faux pas_? Was something out of place? She felt the panic starting to rise. Maybe it wasn't too late to leave. She could explain how it had all been a terrible mistake, a silly idea. She could tell them she thought she could do it, but now realised how wrong she'd been. _Who was she fooling?_

If she just slipped out into the night, hopefully they could all forget she was ever here. That's what she'd do. _Run away._ Her eyes darted sideways, searching for an opportunity, a reason, something. But it quickly became clear, it was far too late to plot an escape. Realising it wouldn't be that easy, she reluctantly let go of the idea.

She had to stop doubting and second guessing herself. After all, that's what these women wanted. But then, it's all she'd ever done, it's what she'd been doing all her life. From a small child, the doubts had never really gone away. That feeling of never quite belonging, of never feeling worthy.

_Governess. Nun. That girl from the mountains..._

She could only imagine what they were saying. _Head high, shoulders back._ She bit down on the tightness in her chest, hoping it wouldn't find its way to her throat. Trying to pretend their spiteful remarks and laughter weren't having an effect, she lifted her chin a little higher. A tiny show of defiance.

Trying her best to ignore the gossiping women, and everything else for that matter, she forced her mind back to the hairstyle in front of her. It must have taken hours or a team of stylists to get every lock, every strand perfectly in place. But the longer she admired the woman's hairstyle, the less of a distraction it was becoming. It was just another stark reminder of her own hair, its simplicity and lack of style. _ Is that what the women were laughing at?_ She'd promised herself not to think about those things. Not tonight. But they'd barely stepped inside, and already she was feeling horribly out of place.

She didn't belong here. She knew it, and the women still sniggering behind them in the distance, knew it too. Tonight, everyone would see what an imposter she was. She wasn't fooling anyone. So much for all her bravado. Her eyes stole a glance sideways. Without him by her side, without his constant encouragement, she wouldn't be strong enough to do this. Not on her own. Perhaps not with anyone else. Probably only with him.

Even through the countless layers of silk and satin, she could feel his warmth. She wondered if he realised how comforting she found his hand resting on the small of her back. _Did he have any idea how much she needed him?_ He moved his thumb. Such a tiny movement that would have gone unnoticed by everyone else. To her, it said more than any words. She needed his reassurance. He must have heard the women too. She felt her throat tighten.

He'd already told her countless times she had no reason to question herself, let people say what they liked. He was right. Even when there was precious little to gossip about, they'd just go and make up their own stories. His thumb moved again. He was standing a little too close, but she didn't care. Reminding herself to push her shoulders back, she was grateful to feel his chest against her. She needed every ounce of his strength and misplaced confidence tonight.

As the sniggering drifted into the background, she wondered how she'd even ended up here. Her life had taken such a wild, dramatic turn these past weeks and months. For most of the time, it had seemed like a wonderful dream. But tonight, it was starting to feel like a nightmare. She reminded herself the room full of strangers would eventually find something else to talk about. Surely, their lives couldn't be so boring.

As the dark-haired woman and the officer holding her arm started stepping down the stairs, she forgot herself for a moment. Standing on the top landing of the marble staircase, her eyes danced around the room. For a magical moment, she forgot all the doubts, forgot all her fears. She felt like a princess. A hand had flown up to her chest, before she quickly remembered herself. _She must have let out a gasp._ His hand moved again. This time to her waist.

"It's beautiful…" she whispered. She glanced sideways and saw the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

From the top of the grand staircase, they had a perfect view of the vast ballroom below. It was the largest, most opulent room she'd ever seen. Flanked by columns of marble, gilded walls glistened under elaborate chandeliers, as guests milled around below. Her eyes travelled up the ornate walls at the far end of the room to the ceiling that seemed storeys above them. She wanted to stop and study the detail of the intricately painted figures clinging to the ceiling, looking down over the ballroom and its guests. It was stunning, breathtaking and she couldn't believe she was here.

She felt his hand tighten on her waist. _She was getting distracted! _ Tearing her eyes away from the ceiling, she stole a glance sideways. He nodded and smiled at her. She'd often wondered how he always appeared so calm and distinguished. But then, he always looked handsome and confident, especially in his tailcoat and medals. As they started making their way down the long staircase, her eyes dropped to her feet, praying they wouldn't trip her up.

From the moment she first saw the ballroom at the villa, she'd decided nothing could ever compare to its splendour or majesty. Even under all the cobwebs and dust, it had been the most breathtaking room she'd ever seen. But the scale and grandeur of this ballroom was overwhelming. Feeling a mixture of guilty betrayal and homesickness, her thoughts turned fondly to the ballroom at home. After all, it was where they'd first met. In the early days, it had been one of the many things they'd argued over. In that room, his children had made him laugh, made him proud. Their first dance had been in the nearby courtyard to the strains of the orchestra streaming through its French doors. And, as he'd proven the other night, he could still steal her breath away within those ornate walls, weeks after he'd stolen her heart.

The Hofburg Palace was grand and regal. But, as they stepped off the last step of the enormous staircase onto the ballroom's marble floor, it could only ever come second. Her cherished memories would always come first.

As they edged their way from the bottom of the stairs into the ballroom, she wanted to turn and say something. With a head full of questions, there were so many things she wanted to ask and point out. Instead, she bit the side of her mouth and turned her eyes back to the dark-haired woman still in front of her. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass him. Although, judging by the reaction when they'd first walked in, she'd already done that. They'd barely given their coats to the attendant at the cloak room before the looks and whispering had started.

Drawn by more laughter, she glanced sideways at a group of couples. The women, standing off to the side together, were nudging each other and whispering. For an awkward moment her eyes met theirs, before she quickly glanced back at the woman's hair in front of her. It was obvious they'd been laughing about her. She tried not to blush, but she could feel her cheeks growing hot. The last thing she wanted was for them to see that she cared about their silly gossiping. Despite trying her best to ignore them, their laughter was ringing loudly in her ears.

As the opening strains of a Strauss waltz filled the grand ballroom, she tried to concentrate on anything but them. _'Tales From The Vienna Woods'_, the hairstyle in front of her, the warm hand on her back, the beauty of the ballroom. But it was difficult to keep her head high, especially when it was obvious all the eyes in the room were on her. Just as it seemed much of the conversation and laughter was directed at her. She prayed it wouldn't be like this all night.

The hand on her back had slipped to her waist again, pulling her up gently. She hadn't realised the couple in front of them had stopped and turned suddenly.

"You alright?"

She nodded, not daring to turn and look at him. He'd see through her. She didn't want that. She didn't want anyone to see how she was really feeling. Especially not him. He'd say something kind or would start apologising again. She didn't want that. That's all it would take for her shaky façade to crumble. And she wasn't going to let the horrible, gossiping women see her falling apart because of them. She could still feel his eyes on her. He didn't believe her.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again, still not trusting herself to look at him. It was difficult enough hearing the concern in his voice. _Head high, shoulders back._ Already convinced she wouldn't be able to pull this off, she didn't want to see his eyes filled with doubt, or worse, pity.

As the couple in front of them moved on, they took a few small steps. Stopping, they turned towards a line of men wearing full dress uniforms and their wives standing beside them in elegant dresses and glistening jewels.

"Colonel and Baroness Laber, Captain von Trapp and Fraulein Maria Rainer." She wondered how his voice could switch so quickly from soft and tender, to clipped and formal. Still not brave enough to look at him, she stared ahead, nodding at the man wearing the military suit adorned with medals.

"Georg, please, we've known each other far too long to stand on ceremony," the man replied as he took Georg's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Fraulein Rainer, it's a pleasure to meet you," he took the gloved hand she offered him and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. "I'm Karl and this is my wife Anna," he turned towards the blonde-haired woman beside him. "And may we offer our congratulations?" He took Georg's hand again and slapped him jovially on the shoulder. "I see you've finally found a woman brave enough to..."

"Karl!" His wife gave him a nudge and a sharp look before he could finish.

"Oh no, Anna, Karl's right," Georg laughed, "it takes a brave woman to take on me and the children."

"Don't pay any attention to them," Colonel Laber's wife smiled warmly as she took Maria's hand. "They have no idea what any of us women have to put up with," she gave her hand a conspiratorial squeeze. "Congratulations, we were delighted to hear the news."

"Thank you, it's lovely to meet you," Maria answered carefully, trying her best not to blush or trip over her words. She felt Georg's hand move encouragingly on her back.

"We'll talk later, after all this pomp and ceremony is over," the Colonel's wife rolled her eyes as she let go of Maria's hand. "It will give the men a chance to catch up," she added, nodding towards her husband.

"I'd like that," Maria smiled back, relieved to find at least one friendly woman in the room. Hopefully, she wasn't the only one. She felt the hand press on her back, a sign to move to the second couple standing in line greeting the guests.

"Georg, who is this delightful young lady?"

Maria took hold of the hand offered to her by an older man with ruddy cheeks. He was also wearing a dress uniform and even more medals than the first. She nodded at him as he bent down to kiss the back of her hand.

"General and Baroness Schwartz," Georg nodded, "Fraulein Maria Rainer."

"A pleasure," the General smiled at Maria, still holding her hand.

"Thank you, General Schwartz," Maria smiled at him before turning towards his wife. "Baroness," she nodded, trying to ignore the cold look the middle-aged woman gave her. It couldn't be more different than Colonel Laber's wife. _Head high, shoulders back._ She could feel Georg's thumb move on her back.

"I wasn't sure we'd see you, Captain von Trapp," the General's wife directed her comment towards Georg, but her eyes were still firmly stuck on Maria.

"Oh-ho, Baroness, you know we wouldn't miss tonight for anything," Georg tried to laugh off the awkwardness, but Maria sensed his body tightening beside her.

"Ah, yes, that's what I told Mathilde," the General had finally let go of Maria's hand. "The evening would hardly be the same without you, Georg."

"Thank you, Sir," Georg nodded. He moved his hand on Maria's back. A sign to keep moving.

"Please accept our congratulations," the General shook Georg's hand warmly. "And enjoy yourselves," he called out with a wink in Maria's direction.

Even as they moved away towards the final couple standing in line, she could still feel Baroness Schwartz's eyes glaring at her. _Head high, shoulders back._ She didn't hear the names of the third officer and his wife, she was far too busy forcing herself to smile, offering her hand, avoiding any embarrassing mistakes, shaking off that cold glare.

"You alright?" Georg whispered as they stepped away from the line of dignitaries.

Maria nodded, determined not to let Baroness Schwartz dint her already shaky confidence. Even as they kept walking, she was sure she could still feel the woman's glare on her back.

Finding their own small space amongst the growing crowd, they turned their backs to the wall and stared out at the couples waltzing around the floor. She stole a glance back towards the officers and their wives. Hede and Max must have fallen behind them somewhere back in the foyer. They were only now being greeted by Colonel Laber and his wife.

"I wish we weren't here," Georg muttered beside her as they both stared out at the couples circling around the middle of the ballroom.

"That makes two of us," Maria whispered back, her eyes moving between the dancing couples. The women looked so glamorous in their elegant, colourful dresses, the men handsome in their suits and bowties. She'd much rather be spending the evening at home. These past weeks, they'd fallen into such a relaxed, comfortable routine. It seemed a world away from tonight. "I wonder what the children are doing," she added, hoping they were on their best behaviour for Frau Schmidt.

Earlier, they'd telephoned home from Hede's flat and spoke to each of the children. "I miss them terribly," she whispered, half to herself. It was hard to believe they'd only arrived in Vienna yesterday, they seemed to have been away from home much longer.

"I know…" he answered softly. "Not long to go. We'll be home tomorrow." With their backs to the wall, his hand moved lower. _Anything to distract her._ And him.

Maria glanced towards the line of military men and their wives. Hede and Max were now talking to the General and his wife. If anyone could charm Baroness Schwartz, it would be Max. Smiling to herself, she watched Hede. It was uncanny how much alike her and Georg were. Dark with strong features, they carried themselves with a similar air, even sharing some of the same mannerisms. But that's where the similarities ended.

Unlike her brother, Hede was unconventional, something of a Bohemian, artistic type. Her flat was part chaotic art studio and part halfway house for fellow artists drifting around Europe from one exhibition to another. After the first few steps inside Hede's flat, she'd realised it was far too cluttered and disorganised for Georg.

Originally, he'd booked them all into separate suites at the Hotel Imperial, just around the corner from his sister. But Hede had insisted he let her stay in the oversized flat looking across Resselpark. He'd eventually relented, reluctantly agreeing it would give the future sisters-in-law a chance to get to know each other. Although, he'd seemed more concerned it would give Hede a chance to reveal too many embarrassing stories from his past. As he was leaving last night with Max, he'd reminded her not to believe a word his sister said about him. She smiled. He'd been right. Last night, Hede had been only too happy to…

Laughter from a nearby group of women interrupted her thoughts, dragging them back to the ballroom. Before she could stop herself, she turned to look in their direction. They were looking straight at her, their laughter barely concealed behind their hands. _Head high, shoulders back._ In case Georg's warnings hadn't been enough, Hede had told her to expect the worst. Having spent her entire life blissfully unaware of the intricacies of high society, she had to admit she was clueless about how any of this worked. It was a complete mystery.

According to Hede, Baroness Schraeder was something of a central figure in Viennese society. Her group of friends so powerful and influential, they alone could decide whether you were part of the elite inner circle, or merely some hopeful making up numbers in the crowd. Do the wrong thing, or sometimes nothing at all, and they could cast you adrift. A small indiscretion might be all it took to be ostracised and frozen out. More than anyone else, she was sure she'd be in Baroness Schraeder's sights. It was something she didn't want to think about. Thankfully, tonight, she wouldn't have to. Not after Max told them the Baroness wouldn't be attending.

The last time she saw the Baroness was the night she'd returned to the villa. She could still see the looks of annoyance and thinly veiled resentment. The children had clung to her the entire evening, so it had been easy to stay out of her way. After she'd ushered the children out of the drawing room and upstairs to bed, they'd never crossed paths. She smiled as she recalled how quickly the rest of the evening had slipped away in the gazebo. Thankfully, they still hadn't…

"Dance with me…" Georg whispered, pulling up her thoughts.

She'd been staring blankly towards the middle of the ballroom and hadn't even realised the last waltz had finished. "I'd like that," she turned to him, nodding. He stared at her, pulling on his white gloves impatiently. She was already missing his hand on her back, but it quickly returned as he led her to a nearby space on the dance floor.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you yet," he murmured, as he turned to face her, "you look beautiful." Taking her gloved hand in his much larger one, he bowed, holding onto her eyes as she curtseyed.

She recalled his look when he'd arrived at Hede's with Max. It was a look that could still tear the air from her lungs, send her heart fluttering and leave her struggling to think of anything sensible. She wondered if she'd ever get used to that look. She wondered if he'd always look at her that way.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"What for?" he frowned at her.

Grateful for his kind words, she smiled up at him as he held up her hand and placed his other hand on her waist, as the orchestra began. "I wanted to surprise you, but…"

"Oh, you certainly surprised me," his voice took on an edge. "It was such a lovely surprise when I opened Hede's door. When I first saw you tonight, you took my breath away…" his voice was low and serious, his breath hot as he moved a little closer. "Don't blush, darling," his words were soft and tender, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's true…"

Despite Hede's assurances, she'd been worried until she saw his reaction. As much as she loved the dark blue fabric of her dress, the way it shimmered as she moved, its full-length fitted skirt was much straighter than anything she'd worn before. She could feel her cheeks growing warm as she recalled Hede telling her it would put an end to the worst of the rumours. Sleeveless with a dipping neckline and back, she'd been worried it revealed far too much. Even with her white gloves covering her arms just above the elbow, she felt far too exposed. "I'm glad," she answered softly as they started waltzing, "I wasn't sure..."

"Maria, you worry too much!" He threw his head back, laughing. "Never forget, you caught my eye wearing that grey sack." She was so adorably unaware. She really had no idea how captivated he was. He glanced around them and realised that some of the couples waltzing nearby had turned at the sound of his laughter. "Tonight, darling…" suddenly serious again, he dropped his voice to a low drawl, "especially tonight, you're the most beautiful woman."

Forgetting herself for a moment, she smiled up at him. She always felt like she was floating when she was dancing in his arms. Even the night of the party, those magical moments when they'd danced the Laendler. He'd made her forget about everything and everyone, except him. Although, tonight that might not be quite as easy. "Is it just me or is everyone staring at us?" she asked quietly.

"Oh no, they're all looking at us," he muttered under his breath. "And no doubt talking about us as well," his eyes softened. "But then, we knew they would," he pulled her a little closer. "They'll soon find something else to gossip about."

"I hope so," Maria whispered. "I really hope so."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't…" she quickly cut him off her voice still soft. "Don't apologise. There was no choice."

"Hmmm, still," he murmured, his voice low, his eyes still clinging to hers, "I know where I'd much rather be." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his heart surging as he drew an adorable blush.

She looked away, her eyes falling on two women standing alongside the dance floor, staring at her and whispering. She quickly looked back, her eyes finding the Maria Theresa medal hanging around his neck from its ribbon in the colours of his beloved homeland.

"Look at me, Maria," Georg whispered, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her as close as he dared. "Keep looking at me," his words brought her eyes up to his. "Imagine we're home. We're in the ballroom, all alone. There's no one else," his warm baritone was soothing, mesmerising. "It's just you and me, darling."

She nodded, wide-eyed. His hot breath, his heady scent, that searing look in his eyes, taking her away to another place, another time.

"You and me, alone," she nodded, as they continued waltzing, moving as one.

"Remember Sunday night?" he arched a brow.

"How could I ever forget…" her breathless words and thoughts drifted off, getting lost in the memory of those precious, stolen moments alone in the ballroom.

"I wish I could kiss you now," he stared at her, his eyes heavy and dark. "I want to kiss you…" his eyes dropped to her lips, recalling those desperate kisses filled with hunger and desire. "I wish I could take you away from here… from these people." Suddenly remembering himself, where they were, his eyes found hers again.

"Sshhh," Maria soothed. "It's just a few hours," she whispered, reminding him that they'd both agreed to be here tonight.

"We wouldn't be at this ball if it wasn't for all this damn madness," he cursed under his breath.

"It's alright…" she whispered softly. Her hand moved higher up his shoulder, her fingertips finding the collar of his shirt, brushing the back of his neck for a brief, tender moment. Tonight, was far too important. Much more important than either of them. Because of her, he'd been reluctant to accept the invitation. But she'd insisted. Tonight, it was critical for him to be here. Critical for them.

_The Officer's Ball._

The most influential current and former officers from the military in the one place. Where else would he get the opportunity to speak to them without drawing unwanted attention? It made perfect sense to be here. Tonight, was much bigger than her being upset over some cruel gossip. This was about the future of Austria, the future of the children.

As the orchestra played the final bars, the waltzing couples came to a stop. Georg's hand fell from her waist, but quickly found her hand. He ran his thumb across the back of her hand, wishing neither of them were wearing gloves. "Let's dance this next one," he smiled at her. "I wish…"

"So, Georg, this is the mystery lady we've all heard so much about?"

They both turned to see a grey-haired man wearing a tailcoat with an impressive set of medals coming towards them. "Heinrich, how are you?" Georg let go of Maria's hand and shook the other man's hand warmly. "Let me introduce Fraulein Maria Rainer," he placed a hand on Maria's back. "Maria, this is Heinrich, my first commanding officer."

"Delighted to meet you, Fraulein Rainer," the man took Maria's hand and kissed the back of it. "But you flatter me," he turned back to Georg. "In record time you outranked me!"

"What can I say?" Georg laughed enthusiastically. "You taught me everything I know."

"I wish that were true," he turned to Maria and smiled as the orchestra played the opening, familiar bars of _'The Blue Danube'_. "Please, don't let me distract you from this delightful lady. We'll catch up later, Georg."

Georg took Maria's hand, his other hand moving to claim her around the waist again.

"I wish we could dance all night," he whispered tenderly.

"I'll be fine," she forced a smile. "Max and Hede will look after me."

"Still…"

"Just think of the children," she tried reassuring him with her soft words.

"I'll be thinking of you as well," he murmured tenderly as they moved around the floor. "You and the children," he whispered. "My family…" the words caught in his throat.

She could see his jaw tighten just before he pulled her closer. "I love you so much, Maria," his words were almost lost in her hair, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

She tightened her hold on his shoulder, clinging to him. Trusting him with their futures was easy. After all, she already trusted him with her heart.

"What the Hell…?"

Surprised, she looked up at him. "What is…"

"Don't look now… no, no, don't turn around," he hissed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Maria was fighting the urge to turn around and follow where he was looking.

"What did Max tell us about Elsa?"

"Please, don't tell me…" But he didn't have to. Looking at the way his jaw was set, she already knew the answer. "She's here…" feeling her stomach lurch, she could barely get the words out.

Her heart was pounding hard, her mind was blank. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Feeling ill, she felt her throat tighten. _Holy Mary, Mother of God…_

Just when she thought this evening couldn't get any worse...

**Thank you everyone for reading the next instalment of this story.**

**Apologies, I've had to mangle a little piece of history and its timing in this chapter. The Officer's Ball has been part of Vienna's annual ball season for years. Organised by the Theresian Military Academy (founded in 1751), it was held at Hofburg Palace until the Anschluss in 1938. The ball wasn't held again until 1956, after Austria regained military sovereignty. The Officer's Ball is held in mid-January, but to fit in with the timing in the movie and my story, I've shuffled it back to September 1937, before the Anschluss on 12 March 1938.**

**I still don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	3. Chapter 3

_I let my guard down  
And then you pulled the rug  
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved_

Her chest was so tight, for a moment she worried whether she could breathe. _Head high, shoulders back._ Her mind was still spinning. What had she been thinking? What had possessed her to come tonight? As bad as she'd imagined tonight might be, she'd never expected this. She wasn't ready, hadn't prepared herself. Inquisitive eyes and prying questions were one thing.

_She wasn't ready to face him._

"What was that, darling?" Trying her best to feign indifference, she hoped no one heard the waver in her voice. Perhaps it had gone unnoticed, perhaps it had all been her imagination. Hearing something that wasn't there. After all, we're our own harshest critic. "Oh, Georg's here...?" she raised a perfectly shaped brow ever so slightly. "Well, I suppose it _is_ the Officer's Ball..." she answered brightly with a little shrug and a brilliant smile. She'd show them. Let them think she was more than ready to face him.

Underneath her well-crafted veneer, she couldn't let them see how close she was to crumbling. Only this afternoon she'd given in to her friends. They'd finally worn her down, convincing her it was well and truly time to reclaim her rightful place with Vienna's party season already in full swing. She wished now she'd paid closer attention to tonight's event. _What had she been thinking?_ Of course, Georg wouldn't miss the Officer's Ball.

"...wouldn't you think he'd show a little more, well, _discretion_…"

"Discretion?" her voice sounded as far away as her thoughts.

"Well, I wouldn't have expected him to bring _her_ along. I mean, let's be honest, ladies, she's the bloody governess…"

_She was here?!_

Could this night get any worse? Her chest was starting to ache. There was a time not that long ago, when her friend's barb would have drawn a witty remark, a snide comment adding fuel to the fire of an illicit affair or some other unfolding scandal. Any other night, any other man, she would be joining in their cruel laughter. But tonight, it was taking every ounce of her strength to hold back the ball of emotion trying to force its way out. She couldn't cry. Not here.

She wasn't ready to face him. And she certainly wasn't ready to face _her_. Especially not here. _Head high, shoulders back._ This was her world. She didn't just belong here, she owned it. Vienna's glittering parties and glamourous balls were hers. Tonight, should be her successful, if somewhat delayed, relaunch into the party season. She should be dazzling the crowd, reminding them she was back to her radiant best.

"Oh, she's nothing like I imagined…"

"Who would have thought _she_ was his type?"

Still struggling to find her voice, she arched a brow at her friend's bewildered look. _Yes, who would have thought?_ True, she'd realised early on that the girl had caught Georg's eye, but she'd never considered her a serious threat. _What makes it so nice, is he thinks he's in love with you._ Her words from the governess' room came rushing back, taunting her like they had so many times since that night. Mocking her like a sick joke. Her mouth was dry. So dry, she could barely swallow. Realising she was still clutching her first glass of champagne, she took a sip. She wished she hadn't. Tepid and flat. It was difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat.

"Honestly, could he hold her any tighter? Why, their practically…"

She didn't need to turn around. She could already see how he'd be holding her. It was an image that still haunted her. Close, much too close, staring into her eyes like she was the only woman in the world, the only one he wanted. It was an image seared into her memory from the night of the party.

She should have realised then. But she'd allowed herself to be blinded. Blinded to what was in front of her, staring her in the face. After all, it was supposed to be _her_ party. And giving up was never her thing. Besides, she'd invested far too much in Georg. Perhaps she was only now realising exactly how much. _His saviour._ The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Or was it the champagne? He'd confessed at the time how unromantic a notion it was. But then, romance and passion had never been their thing. That should have been a clue. She'd been a fool, a complete...

"If he wasn't holding her so close, well..." one of her friends stood on her toes, trying to catch a glimpse. "Who knows, there might be a more obvious reason why he feels the need to marry a girl from the mountains..."

"It would make more sense..."

"Ladies..." as the word caught in Elsa's throat, the strange, strangled sound quickly grabbed everyone's attention. "That's not the reason..."

"But can you be sure, Elsa, darling?"

"I'm certain." Her sharp words drew an uneasy line under the topic. She knew Georg's reputation as well as anyone, but that had been earned years ago. The man she knew couldn't be further away from the womanising cadet and young officer. Agathe had tamed him throughout their marriage, and sadly, her death had numbed him. And, if Georg couldn't be tempted over recent years by the wiles of a worldly woman like her, he was hardly a threat to the virtue of a girl on loan from Nonnberg Abbey.

She hadn't missed the looks shared between her friends. They didn't believe her. Her thoughts drifted as the conversation turned politely, if somewhat reluctantly, back to the Paris fashion shows. She tried her best to follow the discussion, to smile at the right moments, to nod at the appropriate times. But it was difficult to concentrate. _They're here._ The words kept rattling through her head. She was an idiot, of course Georg would be here, and he'd hardly arrive on his own. Max's telephone call from the other day was suddenly making sense. Dearest Max had been sounding her out about tonight. She'd been so distracted, she hadn't even realised.

And now here they all were. If he was here alone, she might have a better chance of keeping things together. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of that damn governess who could light up the darkest corner of any room with her smile and a breezy sing-a-long. God knows, without even trying, she'd managed to light up Georg's dark heart.

The girl had been nothing but a constant reminder of everything she wasn't, of everything his life had been missing. It was ridiculous, but she'd always made her feel uncomfortable. It made no sense how a girl with no class, no background, no nothing, could make her feel so inadequate. It didn't matter how much bravado she mustered, at the villa, she'd always felt out of place. An intruder. And tonight, when she was supposed to be reclaiming her rightful position, she was being made to feel even more like an outsider.

At the sound of laughter, she forced a smile, clueless as to what could have been so hilarious. There wasn't anything even mildly amusing about tonight. Only the twisted irony that here they were, the three of them, reunited in the most public, humiliating of ways. Well, it was too late to change that sad fact.

Now that they were all here, she'd just have to make the best of a really bad situation...

_Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

"Maria...?"

As he turned her in his arms, she'd been staring into his eyes, swept away by her panicked thoughts. She hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Sorry...?" she whispered.

"I was just saying, I can get Hede to take you back to her place. That's if you'd prefer," his words were soft and tender. "Or you could both go back to my hotel suite," his eyes were filled with concern. "I'm sure you'd find it more comfortable there," he added, cocking his head to the side.

"And leave you here?" she frowned at him.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be busy..." he bent down, a stray thought turning his concerned look to a wicked half grin. "Otherwise, I'd like nothing better than joining you in my hotel suite," his words were low and seductive against her.

Here was a chance to escape. She'd been looking for a reason to run. And not only was he giving her one, it came with his full blessing. "You wouldn't mind?" she looked at him wide-eyed.

"Of course not."

"It's tempting…" she answered vaguely, turning the idea over in her head. It wasn't too late to make her escape. But she was tired of running. And the wise words of the Reverend Mother rang out loud and clear. "This might surprise you, but for once in my life, I refuse to run."

Squeezing her hand as they circled the room to the strains of _"The Blue Danube"_, the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth grew into a chuckle. "I wouldn't blame you if you did!" Glancing around, it was obvious they were still the centre of attention. "I'd gladly run away with you," he gave her a wink.

"You need to stay," she reminded him, "and I need to face these women and their petty gossiping."

"You won't have to twist Hede's arm if you'd rather leave," he was serious again. "She hates these things as much as we do."

"Is that even possible?"

"Mmm-hmm," he nodded. "Believe me, Max will be the only one having fun tonight," he added under his breath.

"We'll have to face the world eventually," she smiled up at him. "It might as well be tonight."

"As long as you're sure."

She nodded. "We're here now, we should both stay." He gave her a final turn as the orchestra played the final notes.

"Well, the sooner I do what we came for, the sooner we can all leave," his eyes were apologetic. She smiled as he tugged at his gloves, cursing under his breath as he tried to pull them off. "Let's go find Max and Hede." His hand was on her back guiding her through the crowd.

People had still been arriving, and it seemed the crowd had almost doubled since they'd started dancing. Thankfully, she still hadn't set eyes on Baroness Schraeder, she hoped she wouldn't. While they'd been dancing, she'd only dared look at Georg, hoping it would give everyone a chance to get over their initial curiosity. How wrong she'd been. As he led her away from the couples waiting for the orchestra to begin the next waltz, it was obvious the crowd was still looking at them, still talking about them.

"I'm going to kill Max," Georg muttered under his breath. "Why else did I ask him to telephone her?"

"It's hardly his fault," she whispered, glancing sideways and seeing his jaw set tight. He hated being the centre of attention as much as she did. "You would still have to be here, and it would have been worse if I didn't make an appearance."

"Still, I wish we knew..."

She smiled to herself. More than anything, he hated surprises. Everything had to be meticulously planned and organised. She guessed that's what made him so successful, how he'd earned his medals and reputation.

Looking around the crowd, she wondered how they were ever going to find Hede and Max. She hoped Georg could see over the sea of heads. To her, it just seemed like a wall of people. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a hand in the air, waving at them. _It must be Max._

"For God's sake," Georg cursed under his breath. "As if we're not drawing enough attention..."

Maria stole a quick glance towards him. His jaw had tightened, and now he was wearing a dark look. She smiled. Pity anyone who got in his way or said the wrong thing. Hede and Max weren't too far away, but it was slow going as they picked their way through the milling crowd.

She felt his hand move to her waist, encouraging her to walk in front of him. Following her close behind, his hand never left her waist. She stopped suddenly, as a man in uniform stepped in front of her, then paused to talk to someone. Georg's other hand found her waist, pulling her back against him. Feeling giddy from all the people, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath. But as she leaned back, all she could think of was the feel of his body. The movement of his chest, rising and falling in time to his breathing, his vice like grip on her hips, his long, powerful legs pressed against hers. She was feeling a little flushed…

"I'm sorry, darling," he whispered against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Quickly remembering where they were, her eyes flew open.

A nearby laugh, barely stifled, brought her thoughts hurtling back to the ballroom. She didn't dare turn in the direction it came from.

"...I hear the governess wasn't just taking care of the children..."

She could feel his body tighten against hers. He'd heard the woman as well. A hand left her waist, the other tightened protectively. Her hand covered his as she turned around towards him. His eyes had narrowed menacingly as he searched the crowd around them for the woman who'd dared to utter such a crude remark.

"Georg…" she whispered, forcing his eyes to turn immediately back to her. Without even looking, she knew the fingers on his left hand would be moving instinctively. She shook her head, squeezing his other hand tight. It wasn't worth causing a scene. She held her breath, watching his eyes eventually soften. But she could tell he was seething. Resisting the temptation to reach up and cup his cheek, a sure way to calm him, she dropped her voice even lower. "We know the truth."

Rolling his eyes, he nodded, disappointed that he'd been so ready to fight back. But she wasn't. Although she would have done anything to stop him, she loved that he was so ready to protect her and defend her reputation.

She gave him a grateful smile. Sometimes, it was better to just walk away. He tightened his hold on her waist and she turned, continuing towards Hede and Max.

_It's easy to say  
But it's never the same  
I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape_

She had no idea how long it had been since she'd arrived, it felt like an eternity. She needed to get out of here. Glancing towards the grand staircase at the far end of the ballroom, a handful of late guests were still arriving. Perhaps she just needed a cigarette. Any excuse to get some fresh air. She used to revel in a ballroom filled with a humming crowd. But tonight, it was suffocating.

Weeks ago, she would have basked in all this attention, but tonight it was intrusive and unwanted. In the past, before even a modest soirée, she would spend hours and days planning how she would dominate the spotlight. But tonight, she'd gone to little or no effort. Feeling lightheaded, she just wanted to escape. She had to get away from the noise, the bright lights.

"Are you alright, Elsa?"

She forced a radiant smile to the friend beside to her. "Fine!" Her response, a little too loud, a little too bright. As forced as her smile. "I'm so glad you ladies talked me into coming along," she reached out squeezing her friend's arm. Her hollow words echoed through her head, making her wonder how long much longer she'd have to keep pretending. How long would it take to get him out of her system? _Out of her heart?_ Another day, a week perhaps, hopefully not another month.

She'd never imagined being here, being _this_ woman. Her heart breaking for the man she'd planned to marry one day. Who would have thought she'd fallen so hard for him? She certainly hadn't. How had she let him get under her skin, steal his way into her heart? This was so unlike her. But then, Georg wasn't just any man. Dark, distant, mysterious, impossibly handsome, an allure very few women could resist. With his presence and her grace and beauty, they'd made the perfect couple. Dominating every room, the first couple on everyone's invitation list. Everyone wanted to be…

"Are you sure?"

Her thoughts were thankfully interrupted by concerned words and a hand patting her own. She looked down, realising she was still holding onto her friend's arm.

"I might go get some air," she gave her friend a reassuring squeeze. "No, no, you stay here," she insisted. "I'll be back before you've even had a chance miss me..." She quickly turned and started walking before anyone in the group could protest or join her.

After the first hurried steps, as she put some distance between her and her friends, the crowd began to blur. Their faces, the conversations, merging into the background. _Head high, shoulders back._ She was struggling to focus, to see her way through all the people. It was taking all her effort just to reach the staircase. Her head was spinning, her chest was tight. She had to ignore everyone, everything. She just needed some cool air, to be alone.

She just needed to escape…

_Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

"For God's sake, Max," Georg muttered under his breath, "I thought you said Elsa wouldn't be here."

"She's here?" Max narrowed his eyes, searching the crowd around them.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

At the sound of Georg's raised voice, Maria placed a hand on his arm. Turning, his eyes met hers, already apologising for drawing even more unwanted attention. She gave him a tiny nod. It was easy to forgive him, after all, no one had ever been so protective of her, so concerned. Despite the looks in their direction, she couldn't have felt more loved than if he wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight.

She searched his eyes, relieved to see them eventually soften. But she knew this man too well. He was on edge tonight. His anger would continue boiling just below the surface for the rest of the evening. And it wasn't just because of the maddening crowd, the gossiping, or Baroness Schraeder being here. His beloved Austria was under threat from dark and evil forces. But that's exactly why she loved him so much. His loyalty and honour. Wishing she wasn't wearing gloves, she found herself once again wanting to reach up and touch his cheek, to gently hold his tight jaw, to ease some of his anger. Instead, she left her hand on his arm waiting patiently for the tension leave his body.

"…Georg, introduce me to this beautiful fiancé of yours."

Maria turned, following Georg's eyes as they left hers and moved to somewhere over her shoulder. Behind her, she found a very tall, dark haired man in dress uniform.

"Walther!" Georg reached across to shake the man's hand. "Let me introduce you to Fraulein Maria Rainer," his hand had returned to Maria's back. "Maria, this is my good friend, Captain Walther Krause."

Maria held out her hand. It was quickly taken, and the man, who seemed a little younger than Georg, took it and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you," he looked up from her white glove and smiled.

"Walther, you remember Max Detweiler?" She noticed Georg's hand move instinctively, possessively to her waist. "And I'm not sure if you've met my sister Hede." Georg's friend nodded towards Max before reaching across and taking Hede's gloved hand and placing a kiss.

"Always a pleasure, Hede," his wide smile revealed a dimple from somewhere in the corner of his mouth. "I really hate to interrupt," his voice was soft but serious as he glanced around them, "but Georg, we should talk."

"Of course," Georg squared his shoulders, his eyes darting around the people milling nearby. "Everyone's assembled?" he demanded in a low, commanding voice. His question answered by a sharp, deferential nod.

Up until now, Maria had often seen glimpses of _military_ Georg. During their first meeting, he'd fired orders at her and reeled off a list of commands, before blowing his whistle to assemble the children like he was marshalling the crew. Beside the lake, he'd fired insults and arguments at her, then dismissed her like one of his insubordinate crewmen. But neither of these compared to his current demeanour. Then, he'd been using well drilled instincts to hide his pain and anger. Now, she was looking at a Captain in command, a loyal soldier on war footing. It brought the enormity of the recent newspaper headlines, the dangers of the current political and military climate into sharp focus. Suddenly, the dark clouds were very real, very close to home.

Ignoring the much more pressing matters, he turned to her, his head slightly to one side. "I need to go," his voice was soft. She looked up at him wide-eyed. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Hede and Max chatting to Georg's friend. "Will you be alright?"

She forced a smile and nodded, trying not to let the feelings of panic show.

"I'll be fine," she whispered. She was being ridiculous, he'd only be gone a short while. Before long, he'd be back by her side. For a mad moment, she wondered how Agathe ever let him go, knowing he'd be gone for months on end, knowing it may be the last time she held him, felt his touch, his lips on hers. "I'll stick close to Hede and Max," she smiled as his warm hand found hers. Once again, she wished she wasn't wearing gloves.

"I wish I didn't have to leave you, darling," he whispered.

"You need to," she answered softly, trying bravely to remind herself, as much as him, why they were there.

"Don't worry about Elsa or her friends," he lowered his voice. "Hede and Max will stay with you." She nodded.

After a quick glance to confirm the rest of their group were pre-occupied, talking politely amongst themselves, he bent down. "I love you," his hot, seductive breath against her ear sent a shiver cascading down her spine, her breath catching. "Never doubt it, never forget." His heady, musky scent was all around her. "Especially tonight, darling."

"I won't..." she murmured, struggling to think.

He gave her hand a final squeeze before straightening his shoulders and pulling them back. "Lead the way, Walther," his voice was suddenly sharp and commanding. It wasn't until he'd taken a second step away from her, that her hand finally slipped from his. Watching him weave amongst the crowd, as the distance grew between them, she missed him already. Her heart was pounding, her stomach tightening with fear. Now it was just her facing this crowd.

Her eyes were still following him when he stopped suddenly. She frowned. He turned, his eyes instantly finding hers. She held her breath, his look setting her heart racing, as he stared at her though the crowd. She'd never thought it possible to love someone so much, to need them so desperately. Walther must have said something, for he turned away and she was left to watch him disappear into the crowd.

"Don't worry about him, Maria," Hede was beside her, taking hold of her arm. "This is what Georg was born for, it's in his blood."

"I'm being silly..." Maria murmured, her eyes were still trying to catch one last glimpse of him. "I don't know how Agathe did it..."

"She was a strong woman, just like you."

"Me?" Maria turned and frowned at Hede. "Strong? I'm afraid I'm not…"

"Nonsense!" Hede cut her off. "Very few people are brave enough to tell my brother what he needs to hear."

"Oh…" She could feel her cheeks growing warm. _Hede knew about that?_ "I really didn't…"

"Maria, he telephoned me weeks before you were even engaged. He told me," Hede smiled. "He needs you much more than you think."

"I'm not so sure…"

"Remember the man you first met?"

Maria nodded slowly, recalling the cold, distant man who used intimidation and biting sarcasm to keep everyone at a safe distance. Even the children.

"Georg needs the love of a strong woman," Hede squeezed Maria's arm again. "You're good for him," she whispered. "Perfect, in fact…"

"Thank you," Maria reached across and placed her hand over Hede's. "From you, that means so much."

"Never forget, Maria, my brother..."

"Hede!"

Maria and Hede turned to find a handsome officer in uniform walking towards them. He was still smiling in Hede's direction when he came to a breathless stop in front of them.

"I thought it was you!" he took the gloved hand she offered. "You're the last person I expected to see here."

"Josef! It's been forever!" Maria noticed Hede was blushing a little. "You're looking well."

Maria stole a look towards Max, who raised an eyebrow in her direction. It was obvious Hede and this man knew each other very well. And it was even more obvious how much they liked each other.

"Oh, I've forgotten my manners," Hede seemed unusually flustered. "I'm sure you know Max Detweiler." It seemed everyone knew Max, Maria thought to herself as she watched the man in uniform shake Max's hand enthusiastically. "And this is Georg's fiancé, Fraulein Maria Rainer." Maria held out her hand as the officer took it and kissed the back of her hand. "Maria, this is Lieutenant Josef Niewand."

"Congratulations! I'd heard the wonderful news," he smiled at her. "When is the big day?"

"Not until late January," Maria answered, deciding she very much liked Hede's friend. "We thought we should wait until after Christmas."

"With seven children, that's makes a lot of sense," Josef laughed.

"That's what I told Georg," Maria smiled, recalling Georg wanting to get married within a week of proposing.

"Hede, would you like to dance?" Josef's attention suddenly turned back to Hede.

"Oh, I really shouldn't... I..." she turned to Maria.

"Don't be silly," Maria frowned at Hede. "You two go enjoy yourselves..."

"But, Maria..."

"I'll be here, Hede," Max reminded her before turning towards the young officer. "She'd love to dance with you, Josef."

"Well, I guess that's a yes," Hede smiled at Josef as he held out his hand.

Maria watched on as they walked away towards the dance floor.

"They make a nice couple," Max whispered beside her.

"Thank you for helping me convince Hede," Maria answered softly. "It's obvious how much she likes him. I don't want her stuck here with me all night."

"How are you coping?" Max asked, his usual jovial tone turning serious. "This can be a brutal crowd."

"I'm trying to ignore all the comments and looks," she turned away from Max, but quickly looked back to him when her eyes found two women staring at her. "They're just so obvious."

"We can hardly blame them for being curious," Max shrugged. "They want to catch a glimpse of the woman who swooped in and swept the legendary Captain von Trapp off his feet..."

"Oh, I hardly..."

"Maria, the man adores you," Max chuckled. "He worships you, and don't you ever forget that."

"Thank you, Max," Maria gave him a grateful look, before her attention was quickly drawn by laughter nearby. She turned to see a group quickly look away from her.

"Ignore them," he whispered.

"I wish I could," she gave him a grim look. "I think I need some air…"

_But now the day bleeds  
Into nightfall  
And you're not here  
To get me through it all_

Stepping out into the large courtyard, Maria immediately felt the cool autumn air against her face. It was such a welcome relief to the stifling crowd and the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom. In complete contrast, there were very few people outside. Small groups of men stood around the dim light thrown by lamps dotted around the extensive gardens. The ends of their cigarettes moved like bright fireflies against the dark night.

Away from the lamps, in the shadows, were the odd shaped silhouettes of couples, not wanting to be interrupted or seen while they shared precious moments alone or stole a kiss. _It made her miss him more._ As much as she hoped their discussions were going well, she wished Georg was here. She hoped everything was going as he hoped. The mere thought of Austrians willingly handing their homeland over the Nazis to was enough turn his mood dark and dangerous.

She shivered against the cool air.

"Do you need my jacket?" Max was already fumbling with the buttons.

"Oh, thank you, Max, but no," Maria smiled at him. "Just give me a few minutes, and..."

"Fraulein Maria!"

Maria froze. Her stomach lurched and she could feel her throat tighten. _Where was Georg?_ She felt ill. Not here. She wasn't ready. Not for this. She couldn't turn around. Just when she'd thought this night couldn't get any worse. Perhaps she'd imagined it. But there was no mistaking that voice...

"Fancy seeing you here..."

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read my new story. I've always wondered what may have happened after the night Maria returned to the villa and the Baroness left, if their paths ever crossed.**

**The lyrics woven throughout the chapter are from "Someone You Loved" by Lewis Capaldi.**

**Nothing's changed… I still don't own TSOM, and I'm still just having a lend!**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	4. Chapter 4

_I need somebody to heal  
Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold  
It's easy to say  
But it's never the same  
I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain_

"Elsa! What a wonderful surprise..."

Maria still hadn't turned. She didn't have to. Max had just confirmed what she'd been dreading. It hadn't been her imagination. The night had already been bad enough, especially after discovering Baroness Schraeder was somewhere in the crowd. But now, things had just got so much worse. Now, here they were, alone in the courtyard. Just the two of them. With Max. She had to turn around and say something. She couldn't go on ignoring her. _Head high, shoulders back. _Taking a deep breath, she turned, slowly, until she found herself face to face with the Baroness.

"Good evening, Baroness Schraeder." Thankfully, the words rolled out mechanically. After all the hostility in the ballroom, she couldn't begin to imagine what this woman must be thinking of her.

"You look lovely tonight, Maria," Elsa hoped her words didn't sound patronising. She didn't mean them to be.

"Thank you," Maria forced a smile.

"But then, blue always was your colour, wasn't it?" The words were out before she could stop them. Cringing at how bitter they must have sounded, she could see the girl hesitate. She hadn't wanted to be _that _woman, the woman cast aside becoming ever more bitter and resentful. Pressing gloved fingertips against her temple, it was difficult to think with this aching head.

_Where's that lovely little thing you were wearing the other evening when the Captain couldn't keep his eyes off you?_

On a wave of guilt, the words from _that_ night came flooding back to Maria. Falling for the children's father had been the last thing she'd imagined doing. Even now, despite being engaged, the guilt from the night of the party still followed her, just like her regret for the pain she must have caused the Baroness. She was glad the nearest lamp was some distance along the path. Hopefully, her hot cheeks were hidden by the dark night.

"I didn't think you were coming tonight," Max eventually broke the awkward silence.

"Oh, I wasn't," Elsa turned and gave Max a grateful smile. Small talk with Max would be much easier than navigating through an awkward conversation with the governess. "But the Officer's Ball is always such a wonderful evening," she reached out and squeezed Max's arm, "how could I possibly miss out on this?"

As Maria's eyes moved from the Baroness to Max, and back again, she couldn't help thinking she'd gladly miss this ball and every other one for the rest of her life. Right at this moment, she'd prefer to be anywhere else but here. As the pause in the conversation dragged on, she was sure each of them was compiling a list in their head of every other place they'd rather be than standing here in the courtyard together. She'd happily be back at the Abbey, scrubbing floors under Sister Berthe's watchful eye.

Realising a couple was approaching them, Maria stepped aside, making room for them to pass. Thankful for the distraction, she glanced at the Baroness, who was wearing a stunning full-length blush pink dress that hugged her slim figure.

As they all acknowledged the couple passing by with arms linked, Maria couldn't help thinking how charm, grace and class seemed to come so effortlessly to the Baroness. Wishing she could possess just a fraction of what this woman had, she wondered if she'd ever feel part of this crowd. Out here in the courtyard with the Baroness, she felt even more awkward and out of place. Her eyes followed the couple as they continued along the pathway. The woman's laughter carried on the evening air, rising above the distant sound of the orchestra. It made her miss Georg even more, made her wish he was…

"I was planning to call on you this afternoon, but…" Maria's thoughts were interrupted by Max. She turned to see him shrug apologetically in the direction of the Baroness. "Well, I got caught up with business, and the day got away from me before I realised."

"Still no act for the Festival?" Elsa realised immediately her forced laugh was a little too loud. Hopefully, no one else noticed.

"Well, you know how it is," Max continued. "Finding new talent is never easy, but with everyone else desperate for a signing, well, let's just say, it's even harder these days. But I did stumble across a delightful little…"

More grateful than ever that Max was launching into one of his long, convoluted stories, Elsa tried her best to concentrate. As entertaining as they would be, it was difficult to stay focused on Max's adventures from a day spent in Vienna's music halls. Unfortunately, the cool air wasn't helping her head one bit. The dull ache that had been clinging to her temples for most of the evening had grown into something more insistent. A thudding pain across her forehead.

Hearing the governess laugh, she turned to look at her, forcing a laugh at the same moment. She had no idea what was so funny, but she joined in anyway. She really had to stop thinking of her as the governess. Studying her for a moment or two, she couldn't help noticing the girl appeared distracted and uncomfortable. Did the girl have any idea why they were laughing? Or was it just her who was completely clueless? She wondered where Georg was. Would he be joining them soon? _God, she hoped not._ On that thought, she quickly turned back towards Max.

"...of course, the quartet had already been snapped up!" Max lamented. "I only wished they'd told me before I wasted two hours of my precious time..."

Elsa forced one of her brilliant smiles. Hopefully, this wasn't Max's only story. She really had no idea what she could possibly offer in the way of small talk. _How are the children?_ It was obvious to everyone, she'd never really cared for them. _Is Georg well?_ Obviously, he was happy. She'd heard him laughing earlier. A real laugh, not one of those hollow ones she'd become so used to in the past. _How are the wedding plans coming along?_ That would just add to her humiliation, yet another reminder of what could have been. _Should have been. _Her head hurt. The dull ache, now a pounding reminder that she should have stayed home. She closed her eyes for a moment and gently pressed her fingertips against her temple. No, she really couldn't think of anything to say…

"...if you had a word with Georg about the children, you know my problems would be solved..." Max turned towards Maria with a hopeful grin and a look few could refuse. After a short pause, Maria realised she was being dragged into the conversation. _What on Earth did Max just say?_ She stared at him wide-eyed. "If anyone could change that man's mind, it would be you, Maria."

"Oh, Max, I think we both know Georg isn't going to budge on that one." Maria forced a laugh, hoping her response made some sense. She really needed to concentrate and stop getting lost in her thoughts. Feeling terrible for talking about Georg in front of the Baroness, she resisted stealing a glance her way. Instead, she kept smiling at Max as he continued to champion the children's talents. She didn't dare look at the Baroness. It had to be terribly awkward for the poor woman. Surely, the last thing she wanted to be reminded of was life at the villa, the children, Georg. Especially Georg...

It felt like a physical blow, but Elsa tried not to react to hearing the girl use Georg's name for the first time. _Head high, shoulders back._ It sounded so odd yet made everything so real. Over the summer, the girl had addressed him so formally in the beginning, and yet as time went on, as she said his title more and more, she caressed it with a little more warmth and feeling each time, the word becoming softer, more intimate. It was gradual, just little degrees each time, but she'd certainly noticed the change. Just as she'd noticed the looks, the smiles, the way her body reacted whenever he was near. But hearing her speak his name just now, was something completely different. Struggling, she tried to find a smile.

She looked at the girl. It was obvious how much she cared for him. _What was she thinking?_ She'd been right weeks ago. She loved the man. And it had become increasingly obvious that Georg had been falling for her. Perhaps he'd always felt something for her. These past weeks, with time on her hands and her own company a difficult, unforgiving companion, she'd been trying to pinpoint when he'd first felt something for the new governess. What had he thought of the girl when he'd visited her in Vienna, before they returned to Salzburg? Even then, she'd noticed the more Max teased him about the governess from the Abbey, the more Georg reacted. At the time, she'd thought he'd been embarassed that his children had seen off yet another governess. But had he already felt the attraction, had there been…

"Elsa…?"

Maria followed Max's eyes, her attention turning to the Baroness. She seemed completely lost in her thoughts, completely unaware Max had asked her a question and was now trying to get her attention.

"Elsa?" This time, Max said her name a little louder.

Hearing her name, she turned towards Max. "Oh, I'm so sorry," reaching out to touch his arm, she hoped her embarrassment would go unnoticed in this dull light. "What were you saying?"

"It doesn't matter…" he narrowed his eyes.

"Now don't look at me like that," she forced her words to sound light and breezy. "Tell us more about this day of yours," she patted his arm in time to her words.

"Is everything alright, Elsa?" Max was suddenly serious as he looked at her with a worried eye.

"Of course, it is! It was just a little stuffy inside," she answered brightly as she gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. "That's all, Max, nothing to worry your little head about!"

"Hmmm..." Max didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am," she wished Max would leave well enough alone. The last thing she needed was him being concerned, or for someone to care. "I'll be fine. Just a few more minutes out here in the fresh air," she gave a nervous laugh and patted her hair, "I'll be as good as gold!"

"Elsa, darling, you're not getting one of your headaches, are you?" Max studied her even more closely as he cocked his head to the side.

"Listen to yourself, Max, you sound like an old mother hen!" Elsa tried to laugh off her friend's concern. In desperation, she turned towards the girl, hoping to enlist her help. "It was just a little stuffy and noisy inside, that's all..." she drifted off, her pounding head keeping time with her words. "Nothing for anyone to worry about… nothing at all…"

Over the summer, Maria had seen how the Baroness' headaches could quickly escalate into a migraine. And whenever that happened, it seemed hours banished to a dark room with everyone else tiptoeing around the villa was the only answer. Heaven knows, tonight would make anyone's head hurt. "Baroness, if you're not well, Max can take you home, can't you, Max?"

"Of course, I can," Max agreed.

"I should stay a little longer..." Elsa hoped her forced bravado didn't sound hollow as she weighed up the offer. Leaving now, going home, did sound almost too good to refuse. "Now that I'm here, I should stay…"

"Nonsense!" Max cut off her protests. "If you're not feeling well, we can get your things and leave right now."

"Max is right, Baroness," Maria chimed in, looking at her with concern. She certainly didn't look herself.

"But, what will people say…?" Elsa's voice was soft and distant. Realising she'd been thinking out loud, she forced an awkward smile, before managing a much more brilliant one. "And my friends. I need to get back to..."

"Baroness, Max can let your friends know you're not well," Maria said gently, before turning to give Max a sharp look. "The important thing is to get you home."

"Maria's right," Max nodded. "Everyone will understand."

"Perhaps…" Elsa's scant resistance had all but crumbled. The opportunity to escape really _was_ too good to refuse. And her reasons to stay were flimsy at best. "Would you mind terribly, Max?"

"Of course not," Max smiled with relief. This was the last place she should be if her headache developed into something more serious, and God knows, they usually did. Besides, it would give him a chance to talk to her. Properly talk. Not over the telephone, and not silly attempts at small talk in front of Maria. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something didn't seem quite right. Suddenly remembering Georg's strict instructions to look after his bride-to-be, he turned to Maria. "You don't mind?"

"Don't be silly," Maria answered as Max gave her a concerned look. "I'll be fine," she added, sounding far more confident than she felt.

"Where will I find the girls, Elsa?" Max asked, wondering how he was ever going to find her friends amongst the crowd in the ballroom.

"The back corner," Elsa smiled gratefully, "I left them in the back corner."

"Right then," Max hesitated, looking between the two women. "Well, I'd better go tell them," he hesitated again. "You ladies, you'll be, erhm," he cleared his throat looking for the right words, "you'll be alright for a few minutes?"

"Just go, Max," Maria smiled, the night had already lurched from bad to worse. What else could happen? "We'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure…" Max gave them both a final look before his feet started moving. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he called out over his shoulder after a few steps.

Maria watched Max disappear into the night along the pathway back towards the side entrance. She couldn't help noticing he was walking fast, his strides longer, than his usual relaxed stroll. He clearly felt nervous about leaving her and the Baroness alone. She shivered, but it wasn't from the night air. Standing here alone with Baroness Schraeder, was as close to her worst nightmare as she could imagine. What on Earth were they going to talk about? What did she possibly have in common with this woman? _Well, apart from Georg._ And that was a topic of conversation she definitely wasn't going to bring up. There had to be something she could say, surely there was something they could chit-chat about for a few minutes. It would only be a few minutes. Surely, Max would be back before too long…

"Thank you."

"Oh…" Lost in her thoughts, Maria realised she'd was still staring after Max, even though he'd disappeared from view some time ago. She turned back towards the Baroness. "Thank you? What for?"

"Thank you for being so kind," Elsa's voice was soft. "You didn't have to. Not after everything."

"Everything?" Maria's eyes widened as she wondered what that meant. But as the silence dragged on into the night, she decided her question was probably going to go unanswered. Maybe the Baroness was right. So much had happened over the summer, perhaps it was easier to just put a vague label over it all. _'Everything' _seemed about as good as any.

"Maria…"

"Yes, Baroness?" Maria blushed, realising she'd been staring.

"Congratulations," Elsa forced the word out, but it was met by a look of confusion. "Your engagement," she said simply, trying to erase the image of how triumphantly she'd received the girl's congratulations on the terrace all those weeks ago. "Congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you," Maria answered quietly.

"I hope tonight…" Elsa began, but struggled to find the words, "well, I hope it hasn't been too difficult."

"I never imagined," Maria gave her a grim look, "I never expected people to be so…" she stopped. "I guess you've heard what people are saying?"

Elsa nodded. By the way Maria looked away, she could guess how embarrassed and uncomfortable it was to hear those things. After a summer spent watching the girl closely, really watching her, she knew she'd be blushing furiously right now. "I'm sorry, for the things they're saying. It's awful that you've had to hear the… well, the cruel rumours." She watched her eyes drop to the path. "Maria…" Elsa said her name with such kindness, it forced Maria to look up. "It's not me." She watched as the lines of a frown formed across the girl's forehead. "I haven't played a part in any of this gossip. None of it," her voice was low. "I hope you believe me."

Maria nodded quickly. "I do… thank you."

"I'm sorry you've had to hear it, it can only be…" Elsa stopped suddenly, looking along the path. The couple who'd passed by earlier, was coming back towards them. This time, the man had his arm around the woman's waist. Elsa took a step back from Maria and smiled at the couple as they walked between them. Her eyes followed them, but she quickly looked back to Maria when they stopped to steal a quick kiss.

"Please don't apologise for what others are saying, Baroness," Maria said softly.

"Well, at least let me apologise for the way I behaved on the night of the party," Elsa tried to ignore the pounding in her head. "I was…"

"Baroness, please, I'm the one who should apologise," Maria could feel her cheeks growing hot. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I am sorry…"

"For what?" Elsa interrupted her abruptly. "For falling in love? Hmph!" She let out a sound that comes with age and wisdom, but more than likely, it just made her sound bitter.

Maria could only stare at the Baroness and nod slowly.

"You can hardly help that, can you?"

"Baroness…" Maria began.

"No, no, hear me out," Elsa held up a hand. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing the pounding in her head wasn't getting worse. But it was. "I didn't mean to scare you off into the night." Truth was, she was so hurt and angry after seeing Georg dancing with the girl, no, practically seducing her, she didn't stop to think what she was doing or why. "I didn't mean…"

"Baroness, you didn't scare me," Maria interrupted in a quiet voice. "I was frightened before we spoke," she watched the Baroness frown. "Not of you," she shook her head. "I was frightened of my feelings for the Captain," Maria could feel her cheeks growing hot again. "He was courting you. I tried to ignore what I was feeling. I knew it was wrong. It's not why I was sent to the villa. I did try."

"I know…" Elsa whispered, recalling Maria's horror when she confronted her that night.

As the silence dragged into the night, the two women stared back at each other. Not that either really noticed the other. It felt like time had stopped, suspended somehow in that moment of understanding. And yet, it seemed like time had taken them back to a summer night of forbidden dancing, suppressed desires unable to be denied anymore, bitter triumph, uncomfortable realisations and fear. Triumph for victories that could only ever be short lived, the realisation and fear that everything had suddenly changed, yet needed to remain the same…

Noticing something move, Maria was dragged from her deep thoughts. She looked along the path to see Max coming towards them. He was wearing his overcoat and carrying something over his arm.

"Well, it seems everything's sorted," his overly cheerful voice sounded unusually loud in the courtyard.

"I stopped by the cloakroom on the way back," he was already placing the stole around Elsa's shoulders. "Maria, I tried, but I couldn't find Hede. Are you certain you'll be alright?" he asked as he straightened the fur stole.

"I'll be fine," Maria smiled. "You both go."

"At least come back inside with us," Max persisted.

"I'll be fine, thank you, Max," Maria smiled, appreciating how protective he was being. "Besides, if we walked in together, it would only cause a stir," she gave a shrug, looking at the Baroness.

"I have to agree," Elsa clutched the stole tightly around her. "Unfortunately, this gossip has a life of its own," she added softly.

Maria nodded.

"Try to ignore it," Elsa reached out and squeezed Maria's arm. "It should blow over."

"I hope you're right," Maria forced a wry smile.

"We'd better get you home, my dear," Max gently took hold of Elsa's elbow.

"Yes, of course," she looked at Max, grateful to be escaping the rest of the evening. "Do give my regards to Georg," she turned to Maria and forced a smile. "Good night, Maria. And I do wish you both the very best."

"Good night, Baroness Schraeder," Maria smiled, "and thank you. For everything." She watched on as Max led the Baroness along the path, walking in and out of the pools of soft lamp light dotted along the way.

When they'd finally disappeared out of sight, she let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. Well, that went much better than she'd imagined. Baroness Schraeder had been surprisingly kind and concerned. Strangely, she'd never seen that side of her. Certainly not when she'd been visiting the villa. Probably because she'd just been one of the staff. The governess. But Georg must have seen _something _in Baroness Schraeder. There must have been more to her than the aloof aristocrat. She closed her eyes for a moment. It really wasn't something she wanted to dwell on. Not now.

Turning away from the imposing outline of Hofburg Palace, she looked out toward the enormous courtyard. Although the paths were dimly lit, much of the gardens and lawns were shadowy and dark. There were very few people outside now, far fewer than before. In fact, she seemed to be almost alone. She wished there was a garden seat she could sit on. It would be much nicer sitting out here, listening to the orchestra from a distance, away from the crowd.

Much of Georg's world was still a complete mystery to her. But one thing she did understand, they seemed determined to keep people not born into their high circles firmly in their place. People like her, who they saw as getting ahead of themselves, of moving above their stations. Most of the people here tonight only saw her as a source of entertainment. Really, she shouldn't be surprised by the reception they were giving her. Still, it didn't make the night any easier. Thankfully, the Baroness wasn't paying attention to the gossip and rumours. She'd be horrified to think the poor woman thought there might be any truth to them.

She sighed. Wait until she told Georg that she'd spoken to the Baroness. At least they'd had a chance to speak about the night of the party. They hadn't spoken since that night, not since they'd been alone in her room. Well, not really spoken. When she'd returned to the villa to find Georg and Baroness Schraeder engaged, she'd avoided both of them. At least the Baroness now knew she hadn't encouraged any of this. It had just happened. Well, it had been helped by a push in the right direction from the Reverend Mother.

She turned towards stifled giggles, carried along on the cool breeze. Her eyes found the silhouette of a couple much further along the path, trying their best to hide in the shadows. She smiled. The man had obviously found a way to quieten the woman in his arms. Feeling like she was intruding, she turned away and stared back out into the dark courtyard. They must be the only other people out in the gardens.

Hoping Georg wouldn't be too long, she closed her eyes. If she concentrated, she could hear the orchestra in the distance. She sighed. Given the enormity of what was being discussed, she didn't expect to see him for some time. The familiar strains of the _'Kaiser-Walzer'_ floated on the night air. It was surreal. Her standing here, at a palace, dressed like a princess, waiting for her Prince Charming to return. It seemed straight from the pages of a fairy tale. She could picture Georg rolling his eyes as he teased her for believing the silly stories she read to the young girls.

Trying to stay warm, she rubbed her gloved hands on the bare skin of her arms, just above the elbows where the soft fabric came to an abrupt end. But it was true. No matter how much he'd tease, life really had become a fairy tale. It was difficult to believe this was all real, that life had taken such a dramatic turn and brought her here. She couldn't have imagined any of this. Not in her wildest, most perfect dreams, not ever...

"We could help warm you up, young lady!"

"What...?" She spun around in search of the voice interrupting her thoughts. She watched two young men in dress uniform walk along the path towards her until they came to a stop a few feet from where she was standing. "I'm sorry, but..."

"A beautiful girl like you shouldn't be out here all alone," the one with dark hair told her. "We can keep you company," he added with a wink to his friend.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'm actually waiting for someone," Maria wrapped her arms tighter around her. "He shouldn't be too much longer."

"He?" The tall blonde man questioned. "I'm surprised he's let you out of his sight at all."

"Mmmm, if you were mine, I'd make sure you stayed by _my_ side," his friend agreed. "All night," he added with a grin and a sly laugh.

"He'll only be a few more minutes," Maria forced a smile.

"We don't mind waiting," the blonde man insisted.

"Really, there's no need," Maria told them, wondering why they were so persistent and hoping they would just leave her alone. "My, err, fiancé shouldn't be too much longer," she smiled, wishing that word still didn't sound so strange after six weeks.

"Fiancé?" Both young men questioned in unison.

"Yes, Captain von Trapp," she smiled, despite being struck by the thought that it would probably take Georg all night to find her out here in the gardens.

"_The_ Captain von Trapp?" the blonde man asked.

"There's only one, isn't there?" Maria answered sharply, immediately wishing she hadn't sounded so defensive.

The young men looked at each other and started laughing. "She's as outspoken as they say," the blonde man nudged his friend.

"So, _you're_ the governess..." it wasn't a question from the dark-haired man, more of a statement. Taking a step towards Maria, he looked her up and down.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen…" Maria forced her shoulders back, determined not to let them see how uncomfortable she was. She didn't like the tone or demeanour of either of the young men. So much so, being alone in the crowded ballroom was looking far more appealing than being out here with them. Besides, no one, except Baroness Schraeder and Max even knew she was here. The chances of Georg or Hede finding her were almost zero. _She had to get inside._ Her feet started moving, "I really should…"

"Hey, hey, hey… there's no need to be like that," the dark-haired man grabbed hold of Maria's upper arm, pulling her up before she could get past.

"Please, I don't want any trouble..." Maria turned to the man, her eyes wide. Now that he was so close, his face only inches from hers, she could smell the strong, acrid scent of alcohol on his breath. "I really need to..."

"There's no need to race off," he loosened his grip a little. "After all, we're just having a nice chat, aren't we? We're just getting to know each other," he glanced at his friend, who grinned back at him. "Besides," he turned back to her, "we're more than happy to keep you company until the Captain arrives. That is, if you're really out here waiting for him."

"Of course, I am..." Maria trying to sound confident. But the dark-haired man gave her a look of disbelief. "Please..." she moved her arm, trying to get free.

"You are a lively one, aren't you?" His grip tightened again.

"No wonder she caught the Captain's eye," the blonde man called out from somewhere.

Maria couldn't see him anymore, his dark-haired friend was standing so close. She turned her face away from the smell of alcohol mixed with stale tobacco, as the realisation grew that no one would be looking for her out here.

"Please let me go," Maria whispered, trying to wriggle her arm free.

"Flighty little thing, aren't you?" he bent down low, his hoarse words threatening and stale against her ear. Straightening up, he looked her in the eye.

"Please…" Maria's hand was now pushing against his chest.

"The Captain's a renowned horseman isn't he, Karl?" the dark-haired man called out over his shoulder as he tightened his grip and pulled her closer against him.

"One of the best, from what I hear," his friend answered from the shadows.

"Tell me, did he have fun breaking you in?"

"What?!"

"Did he have to use his crop?" His question was followed by hearty laughter, his friend joining in from somewhere in the darkness.

"How dare you?" Maria narrowed her eyes. "Who do you think you..."

"She's definitely a wild thing. Perhaps he needed his spurs for this one!" The blonde man laughed loudly at his own crude comment.

"Is that how he tamed the governess?" the dark-haired man tightened his grip and pulled her closer, forcing her to look at him. "How he broke…"

_"What are you doing?!"_

Maria turned her head away from the man, searching in the dark for the voice in the distance. _Had she imagined it?_ The dark-haired man was blocking her view of the path, she couldn't see anything. She wished now they'd been standing under one of the lamps, but when she first came outside with Max, she'd been only too happy to hide in the shadows. All she could do was pray. She turned back to the man who had hold of her. He was looking along the path, he must have heard it too. He squared his shoulders defiantly, loosening his grip a little.

"Yes you! Step away from that lady at once!"

"Don't you dare say a word," he hissed menacingly as he turned back to glare at her. "Not a word," a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Young man, you heard me!" The voice was sharp, commanding. It was getting closer. "Let her go this minute!"

Maria closed her eyes. It was close now, the voice was loud, booming around the courtyard. She'd never been happier to hear that voice. She could hear the familiar clip of heels on the path getting closer. She wanted to call out, but she couldn't. The footsteps stopped suddenly. Her heart sank.

"Maria?!" Her name sounded strange, strangled.

Relieved, she heard his footsteps again. Feeling brave, she shook her head, forcing the hand away from her mouth.

"Let go now, or I swear to God, I will break your arm," his words rung out in the dark night.

The dark-haired man quickly dropped Maria's arm. He stepped back and turned. "We were... we were just… Captain von Trapp...?" He suddenly recognised the imposing figure glaring back at him. "Captain, sir…" he took another step backwards. "We were just talking, sir," he added quickly.

"Don't take me for a fool," Georg stepped between Maria and the man.

"Honestly, Captain, we were just congratulating your..."

Georg reached out and grabbed a handful of the dark-haired man's jacket and shirt. "Don't insult me, I know exactly what you were doing," he growled as he pulled the young man towards him. "You're drunk!" He pushed his fist against the man's chest, but kept hold of his jacket. "Who's your commanding officer?"

"What...?"

"You heard me," Georg glared down at the man, he looked like he was barely out of cadet school. "Give me his name," he demanded.

"I'm sure that's not..."

"Let me assure you, it's entirely necessary," Georg pulled him closer. "Name!"

"Mayer… Captain Mayer..." the young man whispered. "Please, Captain von Trapp, we..."

"Your name?" Georg demanded, ignoring the young man's pleas.

"Adler…" the young man answered, his voice shaky, "Hans Adler, Captain."

"Ernst and Annalise's boy?" Georg narrowed his eyes as he watched the man nod slowly. "Where's your father? I haven't seen him tonight."

"Home, sir," the man answered nervously.

"Your mother's still unwell," Georg's voice was suddenly unusually soft. The question was answered with a sharp nod. "I've known your father for years. He'd be shocked and embarrassed by your behaviour," Georg's voice was again cold and threatening. "I can't even imagine your poor mother's reaction."

"Yes, sir… you're right, sir…" the man stumbled over his words. "I apologise…"

"Save it!" Georg cut him off. "You're a disgrace. You dishonour the uniform and bring nothing but shame to your family."

The dark-haired man nodded. "Yes, Captain…"

"Your _friend_," Georg's eyes didn't move. "Name?" he demanded.

"Gruber. Karl Gruber." The two men answered in unison.

"For God's sake, be men your parents can be proud of," Georg pushed hard against the young man's chest with his fistful of lapel before letting go. The young man stumbled and fell back on the lawn. "Now, get out of here," Georg glared down as the young man scrambled to his feet. Standing, he quickly brushed himself off before straightening his jacket and tie.

"You haven't heard the last of this," Georg called out as he watched the two of them retreat hurriedly down the path, disappearing into the shadows. The sound of their heels on the path eventually fading into the night.

Before Maria could think, she felt Georg's strong arms around her, pulling her against him. "Maria, darling, I'm here now," he whispered into her hair. "Did they hurt you? Are you alright?"

Maria nodded her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and buried herself against him. His arms tightened around her as he whispered soothing words into her hair. _She was safe now, nothing could hurt her._

"How did you know I was here," she whispered.

"I didn't. I couldn't find you inside," he kissed her hair. "Where's Max and Hede?"

At his change of tone, Maria lifted her head from his chest. "It's a long story," she paused and took in a deep breath. "Max and I…"

"Shhh. Tell me later," Georg whispered, tenderly raking his fingers through her hair. "We're leaving," his tone was once again serious, business-like.

"Now?" Pulling back, Maria looked up at him. "But don't you have to… shouldn't you still be there with them?" She watched his jaw tighten. Something was troubling him. It wasn't just her. It wasn't what he'd stumbled across in the courtyard. There was something else behind this dark mood. Something far more serious.

"Georg, what's wrong?"

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read and review.**

**I hope I haven't disappointed too many with my ongoing attempts at being kind to Elsa! I never did set out to make her cruel or vindictive in this story - even though that's how I've portrayed her every other time.**

**The lyrics at the start of the chapter are from "Someone You Loved" by Lewis Capaldi.**

**I was re-reading part of Christopher Plummer's autobiography during the week, the part where he quotes the opening lines of "The Man From Snowy River" by AB (Banjo) Patterson. Rather romantically, in his younger days, he likened himself to the yarded, unbroken prized colt who breaks free to join a mob of wild bush horses in the nearby hills. I've borrowed a few lines from** **"The Man From Snowy River" movie, which was based on the poem. Just thought I'd better mention, in case someone recognises them.**

**I still don't own TSOM, still just having a lend!**

**"Immerse your soul in love****"**


	5. Chapter 5

_I need somebody to heal  
Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

Staring straight ahead, into the darkness, she clutched at her stole, and pulled it tighter around her shoulders. The taxi had stopped to give way at the crossroad but was soon rumbling back to life. They only had a short distance to travel, and on any other night, it would have been a pleasant evening stroll through the city's centre. As if sensing the tension from the back seat, the driver quickly worked his way through the gears, and they were soon travelling at speed again along the quiet city street.

Ordinarily, his hand on her knee would be reassuring, playful, a possessive sign that she was his. But he was clutching her leg so tightly, she was starting to worry that he might leave marks or bruises. Stealing a sideways glance, she bit her lower lip. He was facing away from her, looking out the taxi's side window as the city rushed by.

There was only a handful of couples out at this hour, walking along the footpath, arms linked as they passed ornate buildings, whose windows were lit brightly against the dark night. Although he was looking at them, given his dark mood, he wouldn't notice them. Happy couples would be the last thing on his mind.

He was angry. Even in the dark taxi, even though he was facing away from her, she could tell. It was obvious in the way he held his head, the tightness in his shoulders, the strong, dark fingers digging into her leg. She was to blame. Her eyes dropped to her lap. She shouldn't have encouraged Hede to dance. It was obvious how much she liked the officer, and that he liked her. At the time, it seemed so ridiculous that Hede had to babysit her all night and couldn't enjoy herself or have some harmless fun. Praying he'd calm down by the morning, she hadn't expected him to be so angry with his sister.

But he'd been right. Leaving the safety of the ballroom had been a mistake, whether Max was with her or not. She hadn't given it a second thought when she'd urged Max to take Elsa home. She had no way of knowing what would happen next. She stole another glance sideways. He was still staring out the window. All evening, after hearing endless rumours and gossip, she was horrified that he had to then step in to save her from the two young men. Her cheeks grew hot, the humiliation flooding back. _What must he be thinking of her now?_ He had to be wondering if she'd ever be suited to any of this. Why, he couldn't leave her alone for five minutes without her finding trouble. How could he not…

His hand gripped her tighter. _Had he read her mind?_ Looking at his hand on her leg, she had to do something. Her leg was in real danger of being crushed. Letting go of her stole, one of her gloved hands came down, gently covering his. She didn't dare look at him, but he must have turned because she could feel his eyes on her. Feeling brave, she turned towards him, their eyes finding each other in the dark. From the look in his eyes, it seemed he'd suddenly realised where he was, and that she was there with him.

"Sorry, darling," he whispered, his words barely audible, as he loosened his grip on her leg.

"Georg…"

"Shhh…" it was barely a whisper as he motioned with his head in the direction of the driver. His eyes softened as he reached across with his other hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers, his eyes dropping to her lips. He slowly, tenderly, traced them with the soft pad of his thumb.

Not realising she'd still been chewing her lower lip, her eyes fluttered at his touch. She should have known better than try putting on a brave face. He could always see through her bravado. They'd had little chance to talk. She'd barely had time to explain why she was on her own in the courtyard. _Hede was dancing, Max was taking Elsa home._ And then, he'd launched into a tirade, cursing them both for leaving her alone.

Before she could explain much more, the courtyard had started filling up with people, and as the crowd grew, all hope of a sensible conversation disappeared. At least it had brought an end to his cursing. It was only then she'd noticed there was no sound of the orchestra playing in the background. People must have been getting some air while the orchestra was taking a break.

Even after he'd quickly led her out of the courtyard, they'd barely said a word to each other. Stopping at the cloakroom, he'd waved over a friend who happened to be walking across the foyer and asked him to pass on a message to Hede. Thankfully, he'd managed to keep it polite. They'd even waited for the taxi in silence. And now, desperate to explain her behaviour, she couldn't. She knew better than to start a conversation in front of the driver.

She opened her eyes as she felt him cover her hand that still rested on his. She wished she wasn't wearing gloves. His fingers started moving along the length of hers, slowly back and forth. Smiling, she turned to him. Her smile dropped away as she found him staring out the side window again.

He was shutting down, being swallowed up and consumed by his black mood. It's what he did. Left alone, he could be like this for hours on end, trying to make sense of things, churning things over on his own. Over time, gradually, he'd been letting her in, instead of shutting her out. It hadn't been easy, but looking at him now, she wouldn't have him any other way. After all, it was the dark, moody Captain who'd captured her heart first. He'd always be part of the brooding, complex man sitting beside her, part of the man she loved.

She looked down at their hands. It was always the same. When anything troubled him, he found it impossible to keep his hands still. Concentrating on the feel of his fingers, moving gently backwards, now forwards, along hers, she turned away from him to stare out the window beside her. But she wasn't taking in any of the sights. Her own thoughts were churning. The only thing she knew for certain was Georg's mood was dark. She had no idea if it was all her doing, or if it had something to do with what had been discussed behind closed doors. Lost in her own thoughts, the taxi pulled to a stop before she even realised.

She turned to Georg. He'd already taken several coins from the inside pocket of his coat and was handing them across to the driver.

"That's far too much, sir."

In the dim light, Maria could hear the coins jingling in the driver's palm as he worked out the change.

"Keep it," Georg waved a hand towards the driver as he opened the car door.

"Thank you, Captain von Trapp," the driver turned and nodded towards the back seat. "Enjoy your evening, sir," he added.

"Thank you," Georg shot over his shoulder to the driver, one foot already on the ground. Stepping out of the taxi, he closed the door firmly behind him.

Sitting alone in the back seat, Maria wondered if she'd been the only person in the world who'd had no idea who Captain von Trapp was. At the start of the summer, she'd never heard of him. But it seemed everyone else knew him, even complete strangers. As the door beside Maria opened, she forced a smile. Reaching out to take Georg's hand, she stepped onto the footpath. He closed the door behind her, as she smoothed down the skirt of her dress. Pulling her stole around her, a gust of the autumn night's cool breeze blew along the street, sending fallen leaves dancing along the footpath.

The taxi pulled away from the kerb and picked up speed as it travelled out of sight down the street. A young couple laughed in the distance before disappearing down a side street, leaving them alone with the doorman standing guard outside the imposing Hotel Imperial.

"It's such a beautiful night," Maria turned towards the empty cafes across the street. Through the shop windows, a handful of staff could be seen cleaning down tables, getting ready to close for the night. Whether it was the cool air, or the magic of the city street, she forgot about Georg's dark mood for a moment. "I'd love to go for a walk through Resselpark," she smiled, it was just that kind of perfect autumn night.

"What...?" He turned to her as if she was half mad. "Now?"

She shook her head at him and smiled. "Not in these shoes. I won't make it to the end of the street, let alone the park."

"That's very unlike you, Fraulein," forcing a half grin, he was struck by an image of his future bride in her evening dress walking through the dimly lit park in bare feet, shoes dangling nonchalantly, seductively, from her fingers. Even in the middle of his blackest moods, stray images of her still found him. "Letting a pair of heels beat you?" he asked, clearing his throat to chase away the dangerous thoughts.

"You have no idea how much my feet are aching," she turned to find him looking at her playfully. Not yet a real smile, but a hopeful sign that his dark mood might be lifting.

"How about we get you that room?" he was suddenly serious again.

She placed a hand on the arm he offered her, and they turned towards the imposing front doors of the hotel.

"I can't wait to get out of these shoes," Maria whispered, wincing after the first step.

"Good evening, Captain von Trapp," the doorman greeted them with a nod before opening the door. He seemed happy to see them, but Maria couldn't help thinking he'd probably be happy to see anyone on the deserted street. Georg nodded at him as they passed by, while she shot him a quick smile.

Making their way across the marble floor to the reception desk, their footsteps echoed around them. Like the street, the grand lobby, an ornate, cavernous room, was empty except for them. When they'd arrived in Vienna, Georg had driven directly to Hede's. With the weather so perfect, their time in the city had been spent walking the streets, eating at the outdoor cafes and taking in the sights. It was only now that Maria was seeing what lay behind the Hotel Imperial's grand façade.

"It's as beautiful as the Palace," she turned wide-eyed towards Georg, before quickly turning away to take in as much detail of the grand lobby as possible.

"Good evening, Captain von Trapp, may I help you?" the silver-haired man behind the desk enquired, as they came to a stop across from him.

"A room for Fraulein Rainer," Georg replied.

Maria's eyes travelled up the wood-panelled wall behind the man to the enormous painting that ran the entire length of the reception and concierge desk. It was a beautiful country scene of villas overlooking a lake. For a moment, her mind drifted to home. Glancing at the roman numerals on the large clock centred below the painting, she wondered if all the children were in bed yet. They'd promised to be on their best behaviour for Frau Schmidt. She missed them terribly. It was just after nine, so the older ones might still be reading, or sharing their last thoughts of the day in soft whispers.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but we don't have anything available," the man's deep voice brought Maria's attention back to the reception desk. Pencil poised, he looked up from the large, leather-bound ledger opened on the desk in front of him.

"A basic room will be fine," Georg told him. Maria turned to him, and he moved his hand on her back.

"Sir, I'm afraid we don't have any rooms at all," the man apologised again, this time over the top of his spectacles. "As you know only too well, Captain, it's the Officer's Ball," he explained, "unfortunately, we seem to be fully booked."

"I see…" Georg answered slowly, weighing up their options while he silently cursed Hede's ill-timed impulsiveness. He should have searched for her, found her, but he couldn't have stayed at the ball a moment longer. "Do you have another key to Herr Detweiler's room?"

"Herr Detweiler's room?" a frown creased the man's already lined forehead, before he remembered himself and who he was addressing, and the frown quickly fell away. "Won't Herr Detweiler be needing his room?" he enquired politely.

"Not tonight," Georg answered simply.

"Very well, Captain," the ring of doubt in his voice betrayed his look. Captain von Trapp had paid for both rooms, so he could hardly question his request. In fact, he was the kind of guest one never questioned. "Excuse me for a moment," turning, he disappeared through the doorway behind him to retrieve the spare key.

Maria glanced at Georg. Still staring straight ahead, waiting for the man to return, he gave her a wink. She turned away, confused. She could hardly share a room with Max, and she certainly couldn't share a room with Georg. Her cheeks suddenly grew hot at the thought.

The man returned to the desk holding the room key in his hand. Picking up the lead pencil, he made a note in the ledger book. "Room 312, Captain," the man held the key out across the desk. "You'll find it on the third level, sir, and I'm certain Fraulein…" turning to Maria, he hesitated.

"Rainer," Georg answered abruptly, "Fraulein Rainer."

The silver-haired man smiled. "I'm sure Fraulein Rainer will enjoy her stay."

"Thank you," Georg answered as he took the key.

"Do you require any assistance with bags?"

"That won't be necessary," Georg's response was blunt.

"Can I send housekeeping to either room?"

"Not tonight." An even blunter response.

"Good evening, Captain von Trapp," the man nodded at Georg, then turned to Maria, "Fraulein Rainer."

Turning away from the desk, Georg ushered Maria in the direction of the lifts. The attendant at the lift looked up. He'd lost interest in the couple standing at the reception desk across the lobby some time ago, but his attention was stirred by the sound of approaching footsteps echoing around the deserted lobby. Nodding, he pressed the button with an arrow pointing towards the ceiling. Most other nights, as guests came and went, there'd be a short wait before the lift made its descent to the lobby, but tonight the doors opened immediately. Georg stood aside to let Maria past, then joined her inside the lift.

"Thank you," Georg smiled at the young attendant before reaching across to press the button at the top of the panel beside the door. They watched the doors close in front of them and the lift whirred to life.

"Isn't Max's room on the third floor?" Maria blurted out.

"Do you honestly think I'd let you spend the night in Max's room?" Once again, he was staring at her like she'd gone completely mad.

"But, if he's not there…"

"But nothing," Georg reached out between them and took her hand in his, memories of Max's messy quarters and appalling housekeeping coming back to haunt him. "You'll stay in my room."

"With you?" her words were soft, barely audible over the sound of the lift.

"As nice as that would be, darling," he gave her a dark, dangerous look that set her heart racing, "no, not with me," he said each word slowly, deliberately. Her wide blue eyes held his for a moment, before he remembered himself. "I'll take over Max's room."

"What about Max?"

"I'll call Elsa's villa and tell him to spend the night there," Georg explained.

"Oh…" Maria said softly.

"I'll admit, it's not ideal," he turned away from her and stared straight ahead, the lift doors a far safer option than wide blue eyes and luscious lips. "But Max staying at Elsa's is far less likely to cause an international incident than anything else I can come up with at this hour of the night."

"In that case, I'll just take Max's room," it seemed the sensible thing to do.

"Maria…" he closed his eyes for a moment.

"It will save you moving your things," still looking at him, she noticed his jaw tighten. "Anyway, all my things are…" she stopped, reluctant to bring his sister into the conversation. "It would just make more sense…"

"Maria, darling," he cut off her protests, before pausing to take a deep breath. He wasn't in the mood to argue any more tonight. Not with her. "I will not have you sleeping in a third-floor broom cupboard while I'm swanning around in luxury."

"But…"

"Maria!" Georg snapped, his tone much harsher than he'd intended. The edge may have been taken off his black mood, but it was still circling and didn't need provoking. "Please," he whispered, "I don't want an argument," he quickly squeezed her hand, an apology of sorts. "Not tonight…" he added with a sigh.

Maria turned to look at him, the silence between them dragging out. He was right. She should know better than to provoke him. She reached across with her free hand and gently caressed his forearm. _She understood._ Staring straight ahead, his tight jaw loosened a little. The lift shuddered to a stop and the doors separated to reveal the top floor. Still holding her hand, he led her out of the lift and into the hallway. Like the lobby downstairs, the upper floor was quiet. She wondered if they were the only guests moving around the entire hotel tonight. Perhaps it was always this quiet.

Walking along the hallway in silence, Georg reached up with his free hand into the inside pocket of his jacket for the key to his suite. His hand wrapped tightly around the key as they walked along a hallway lined with artwork and broken occasionally by double doors leading to the grand suites found on the top floor.

When he'd booked their rooms a number of weeks ago, he'd been more than happy to take something far more modest. After all, there was only him, so he didn't need all the unnecessary space of a suite. Perhaps it was a hangover from years spent living in the cramped quarters of a U-boat. But, as usual, management had upgraded him to one of their premier suites, something called the Royal Suite, or some damn thing. It may have been fit for a king, but it was far too big for him. Last night, rattling around in all that space on his own had given him far too much time to think. Anyway, he'd much rather spoil Maria. She deserved it far more than him.

"It's the next one on the left," he whispered. Stopping outside the set of double doors, he turned the key in the lock and opened one of the doors. Standing aside, she walked past him.

She'd only taken a few steps into the suite before coming to an abrupt stop. Her eyes danced around a dimly lit sitting room with a large dining table. Even in the semi-dark, she could see the room was overflowing with furniture from a bygone era, adorned with antiques. On the walls, large mirrors and impressive works of art hung in gilded frames. But it was the view from the floor to ceiling windows flanking the far wall that had her holding her breath. The only light in the room came through the enormous windows.

She didn't hear the door close behind her as she took a few steps towards the closest window. Pulling the stole off her shoulders, she draped it over the back of one of the chairs placed around the dining table. Holding onto its high back, she kicked off her shoes. _Relief at last._ She flexed her toes, relishing the softness of the enormous rug covering the floor under the dining table.

Closing the distance between her and the window, she looked down to find marble under her aching feet. Its coolness as soothing as the soft rug. Down below, the city's lights shimmered against the darkness. Lifting her eyes, she looked across the rooftops to the floodlit dome of Saint Charles Church. It's was a stark contrast to the backdrop of black sky, littered with stars.

"Damn housekeeping," Georg muttered under his breath from somewhere behind Maria. "Let me draw the curtains so we can turn on a light." He stood beside her and took hold of the cord holding one of the drapes open.

"Oh, Georg, can we just enjoy the view for a few minutes?" Maria reached out with both hands, clutching his arm. "It's so beautiful," she whispered turning back to look out the window.

He stopped and stared out the window. She was right. The view of Vienna's night sky from the top floor of the Hotel Imperial _was_ something to behold. He turned to her and smiled. She was staring out the window, her eyes bright, dancing, as they took in the view. Vienna at night might be a beautiful sight, but she, well, she was truly breathtaking. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Maria let out a squeal of surprise as she fell against Georg's chest. Holding onto the lapels of his jacket, she smiled against him at the touch of his lips against her forehead. His arms tightened around her. It was hard to believe that only weeks ago, the arms of a man had been a completely foreign place to her. Now, she couldn't think of anywhere else in the world she'd rather be than held against Georg, surrounded by his love, wrapped in strong arms and drowning in his musky, male scent.

His body relaxed against hers as he buried his cheek in her hair. _The night's tension finally finding a release._ Relishing being in his arms again, she rose and fell gently with his chest, in time to his heavy breathing. She went to move, but his arms tightened around her, holding her against him. She froze for a moment. Something was different tonight. _Was it relief, or resignation?_ Reaching up, she instinctively cradled his head to hers. Her fingers gently, tenderly raked back and forth through his hair, hoping to soothe whatever was worrying him.

"Tell me, what's wrong," she whispered, her words almost lost against his chest.

"Everything…" the word was hoarse, choked.

"Everything?" Maria's heart dropped, her body froze, her fingers stopped moving. She waited for his answer, but it never came. She tried to lift her head from his chest, but he tightened his hold, buried his cheek deeper into her hair. He let out what sounded like a sigh. His cheek moved against her hair. _Was he wiping away tears? _ Tentatively, her fingers began to move slowly backwards and forwards from the nape of his neck, then raked gently through his hair. They found his neck again, before their tender path was stopped by the starched collar of his shirt. She took a deep breath, dreading her next question. "What do you mean _everything_?"

"Not you," he closed his eyes tighter against her hair, wishing he could hold her all night. He needed her soft body and soothing hands. "You, the children," he whispered, "you're all that's right in this damn world."

Maria pulled back, looking up at him. Blinking hard, he was trying to hide his emotions in the dimly lit room. She hated that he felt embarrassed, ashamed. "What happened tonight?"

"Nothing!" His stinging response was filled with anger and disgust.

Maria jumped at his sharp response, but his hand quickly found her cheek, cupping it gently. The best apology he could manage as memories from his earlier meeting brought a searing, boiling anger to the surface.

"Nothing? But I thought…"

"What, that we'd all remember the oath we pledged to Austria?" The rhetorical question was bitter and sarcastic. Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it affectionately before letting go. Another apology of sorts. "Some in the room might as well have been wearing uniforms of the Third Reich," his tone was cold. "Stooges, probably planted by the Fuehrer himself…"

"Oh…" she frowned at him. It now made perfect sense. The mood, his anger. "I was worried you were angry with me..." she said in a soft voice.

"Fraulein…" his eyes softened as he took her hand. "From the beginning, you've challenged me, provoked me," he watched her eyes grow wider, "fascinated me, captivated me, but you never angered me."

She arched a brow at him.

"Well, maybe a little," he smiled, a real smile that revealed the dimple near the corner of his mouth, but she just tilted her head a little to the side. "Well, alright, in the beginning, maybe a lot," he cupped her cheek. What would he do without her? The mere thought of her not being here by his side filled him with dread. "I love you so much," he whispered, his eyes dropping to her lips. He lowered his mouth to hers and caught her in a searing kiss. He went to pull back, but he couldn't stop at one. When his lips found hers again, their next kiss was deeper, longer. _God, he could kiss her all night._ Before he lost himself completely, he pulled back.

"What will we do?" she asked, a little out of breath.

His eyes softened at her question. _Thank God she was here with him._ He didn't have an answer yet, but he knew it would be bad. There would be few options, all of them devastating, and they'd be forced to choose the least bad of them. His thumb moved slowly back and forth, tracing her cheekbone. At least she was here with him. He wasn't alone. _God, he loved her._

The past years had been overwhelming, he'd missed having someone like her. Someone like Agathe. Someone who understood him, who believed in the same world he did. He felt a sting of guilt. It hadn't been Elsa's fault. She'd only ever known him as the partying aristocrat without a care in the world. It couldn't have been further from the real him. He'd never let her into his world, as time went on, he couldn't. She might discover it was all a lie and he was nothing more than a fraud. In the end, the way things ended, it didn't matter. But it had never been like that with Maria. He didn't have to hide who he was or pretend to be someone else. She'd become his world. Her and the children. _ Just like Agathe._ "I'm not sure what we can do," he finally answered.

"Well, we'll have to think of something," she gave him a reassuring nod.

"I can't," his voice was strained. "Not tonight."

"I didn't mean tonight, darling," Maria smiled, reaching for his hand. It had been moving madly against his leg. "Get over the disappointment of tonight," she still had little idea what had happened, but whatever it was, it was bad. "Tomorrow's another day. Let's try and forget all about it until then." He nodded slowly. "I'm here, Georg, you're not alone."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I don't deserve you," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Don't be silly," she smiled against his chest, that's what she kept telling herself about him.

If anyone could help him forget, it was Maria. But first things first. "I need to make a call," he loosened his hold. "The last thing I want is to share a room with Max," he answered her frown.

In the semi-dark, Maria watched him walk away from her across to the far corner of the sitting room where a telephone sat on one of the side tables. He looked so handsome in his tailcoat. _Who was she fooling? _ She always thought he looked devastatingly handsome. As he picked up the telephone receiver from its cradle, his Maria Theresa medal shimmered as it caught a shard of light. He was braver than most men, prouder of his homeland than anyone else. Little wonder he was angry and disappointed at their disloyalty and fearfulness.

After a short pause, he spoke a few words into the receiver before waiting to be transferred to Elsa's villa. She turned away and stared out the window, once again looking out at Vienna's captivating night sky. But this time, she wasn't seeing any of the bright streetlamps, the lit windows of the apartments below, or even the glittering night sky.

Georg had assured her that Austria's armed forces would answer the call to arms, convinced that every officer's allegiance to the flag was as strong as his own, their loyalty unwavering. She wrapped her arms around her waist. _What would they do now?_ It seemed what had been unimaginable only hours ago, might actually happen. No wonder he was devastated and bitterly angry. Now they might just have to face the unthinkable…

Waiting for someone to pick up the telephone, Georg turned towards Maria. She was gazing out the window again. Any other time, he'd have lost patience waiting this long for his call to be answered. He would have hung up in a volley of curses. But his mind was racing, the jumble of thoughts drowning out the sound of the incessant dial tone. It was impossible to predict what the future might bring, but he needed a plan. A central plan with options in case circumstances changed mid-stream. Careful, meticulous planning had served him well in the navy and life, it's what his family needed now.

He knew only too well what happened when he lurched along with no plan, completely clueless and helpless. He couldn't do that to his children again. His eyes were still on Maria. She would make sure that wouldn't happen. _But what could he do?_ There had to be another way. Every scenario was unthinkable. Not even…

"Oh, hello…" he cleared his throat, wondering how long the person at the other end had been trying to get his attention. "May I speak to Herr Detweiler?"

As Elsa's butler went to find Max, he kept looking at Maria, his eyes narrowing. He should realise, he could get through anything with her by his side. Illuminated by the strange, half-light coming through the window, she looked like an apparition. An angel of mercy. _God, she looked gorgeous._

Despite days of nerves, she was captivating in her evening gown. The most beautiful woman in the ballroom tonight, the one every man wanted to dance with. He'd noticed the way they'd looked at her. But that was just it. She had no idea, and it's what made men want her more. His fingers started moving, flexing at the uncomfortable thought.

Did she realise she could have had any of the men at the ball tonight? A dashing young officer, a count, even a prince. Instead, she'd settled for a miserable old fool. Like so many times before, he wondered why.

His eyes travelled slowly down her long, slender neck, following the exposed skin of her back until it met the neckline of her gown. His gaze settled for a moment on her tiny waist before following the outline of her hips against the figure-hugging dress. He gripped the telephone tighter, forgetting some time ago that he was being made to wait. His eyes moved upwards again. _God, he wanted to touch her._ He needed her back in his arms, needed her to make this go away. She was right. Tomorrow, she could help him make sense of this world. Tonight, she could help him forget.

The fingers on his free hand were drumming his leg, moving instinctively. He needed to touch her. She was too far away. He wanted to skate his fingers across her soft skin, to run a finger beneath the strap of her dress. Teasing himself, as much as her, before letting it slip from her shoulder. Before leaning down…

"Erhm…" _God, where was he?_ "What was that?"

The crisp voice repeated itself down the line.

"Oh, I see… Thank you," he whispered. Still staring across the room at Maria, his eyes never leaving her, he hung up the telephone, but missed the cradle. Spinning around at the sudden noise, she gave him the tiniest of smiles.

_Had he heard right?_ Surely, there must be some mistake…

**Thank you everyone for your kind reviews, especially the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally.**

**Apologies for taking so long to post this update. To be honest, writing hasn't been easy these past weeks. Normally, TSOM is my happy place, the magical world where I escape. But as the current horrors spread out around the world, tuning out from this nightmare has been difficult, escaping impossible.**

**Thoughts and prayers to everyone who's been personally touched by the tragedy of COVID-19. A huge debt of gratitude to all the healthcare and frontline workers, and everyone supporting their heroic efforts. Saying thank you seems so inadequate these days given the work you're doing and what you have to face.**

**It seems that most of us are in some form of shutdown, lockdown or some variation in between. Everyone, stay safe, stay strong, but most importantly, if you can, please stay at home.**

**I don't own TSOM, just having a lend.**

**I should also mention that some of my Georg's thoughts of Maria are borrowed from Christopher Plummer. In his autobiography, he credits his wife of 50 years, Elaine Taylor, for being the "angel of mercy" who came to his rescue. In an interview with "The New York Times" in 2004, when speaking about his wife, he said: "I feel guilty sometimes that I denied her a wonderful life, that she's wasted on some terrible old ham. She could have married a duke or a prince!"**

**With our worlds upended and barely recognisable, even more than before, "immerse your soul in love" and be kind to yourself and others.**


	6. Chapter 6

_I fall into your arms  
I'll be safe in your sound til I come back around_

"Is everything alright, darling?" Maria called out across the dimly lit room.

He answered her with a nod of his head, forgetting it would be lost somewhere between the dark corner of the room where he was standing and the distance separating them. But a nod was all he could manage. He stared blankly across the room. His eyes hadn't left her, they'd followed her every movement as she'd stood at the window watching the streets of Vienna below. Even as his hand searched for the telephone receiver on the table beside him, he couldn't look away from her.

"Georg, is something wrong?" Worried by his silence, Maria left her spot by the window and started moving across the room towards him.

He held his breath as she moved, the strange light from the windows behind her playing on her ivory skin. It was such a contrast to her dark, almost midnight blue evening gown. _She looked like a vision…_

"Has something happened to Max or the Baroness?"

"What?" he whispered, his fingers finally made contact the receiver. "No, no…" he wrapped his hand around it and tried to find the cradle. Swallowing hard, he couldn't look away from her, and after some fumbling, the receiver found its place on the cradle. She came to a stop in front on him and he could see the worry and concern in her eyes. "Elsa's butler didn't say much," he began, finally finding his voice. _Honestly, the man spoke fewer words than Franz._ He gave her a half-smile, partly to reassure her, but mostly at the sudden, unexpected touch of her hand on his arm. "I assume they're alright."

"But didn't he tell you?"

"No…" he answered softly. _God, he loved the way she cocked her head ever so slightly to the side whenever she asked a question._ "It seems Elsa arrived home some time ago."

"What about Max?"

"Who knows," he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, savouring the feel of her hand moving gently up and down his forearm. "Elsa's butler never saw him."

"Oh…" Maria's hand had stopped moving on his arm as she paused to wonder what that meant. "But he hasn't returned to the hotel," she frowned, "otherwise the man at the desk would have said something."

"The butler checked with Elsa, but Max never went inside," Georg shrugged. "He must have gone back to the ball."

"But that means…"

"I know…" he sighed, trying to ignore the warmth of her hand, "I'll have to share a room with him after all." Her frown deepened, so he gave her a quick smile.

"I really wish you'd let Max sleep here," she squeezed his arm. He arched his brow at her, making her stop to wonder why. "With you, of course," she added quickly.

"I'm sure his room has a settee…"

"Oh, Georg, you can't sleep on a…"

"I've slept on worse!" His response was sharper than he'd intended. "I wasn't always a captain."

"Darling, I realise you weren't always a captain," Maria's tone was the one she usually saved for the children when they were being petulant. "It would just make more sense for you to share this suite with Max," her hand started moving on his arm again. "The sofa is enormous," she glanced sideways toward the sitting area before turning back to him. "You'd be much more comfortable."

"Maria…"

"I don't know why you're being so stubborn."

"Me? Stubborn?" he scoffed at her. "And what about you, darling?"

"You know I'm right, you just don't…"

But before she knew what was happening, his hands were suddenly in her hair, his lips on hers. She opened her mouth in surprise, but that was all the invitation he needed, as her gasp was swallowed by a deeper kiss. _Rough, insistent, demanding._ Trying to steady herself, she grabbed handfuls of his tailcoat as his searing kisses sent her head spinning. But suddenly, his lips left hers and it was over as quickly as it began. Trying to catch her breath, her head was spinning too much to decide whether she was more shocked or disappointed.

Georg smiled to himself, knowing his kisses had their desired impact. His fingers were still in her hair, raking gently back and forth, as he watched a smile spread across her face. "You need to stop putting yourself last," he whispered, one hand letting go of her hair and tenderly brushing her cheek. "You're spending the night in this room whether you like it or not. Let yourself be pampered," his eyes dropped to her lips, still only inches from his, "you deserve it, darling."

"Perhaps, but…"

"Ma-ri-a…" her name rolled off his lips in a low growl as he gently pressed his thumb against her luscious lips, stopping her protests. "Keep arguing and I'll keep kissing you," he watched a tiny smile grow against the soft pad of this thumb. _God, he could read her mind!_ Was she seriously going to keep this argument going? He raised a brow at her as her lips parted against his thumb. "Oh-ho, no you don't!" He gave her a sly half-grin. "As much as I'd love to kiss you all night, I don't want to hear any more."

Finally admitting defeat, she nodded slowly. She may have lost the argument, but from the look in his eyes, she was certain there would be more kisses before the night was over. "Well, I guess a little pampering _might_ be nice," she admitted grudgingly, not wanting to let him think he'd won so easily.

"Oh, trust me, darling," he narrowed his eyes, "it will be more than _nice_."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently against him. Running the back of his fingers slowly, gently down the soft skin of her upper arm, something of a reward for letting him win. "You need to let me take care of you," his words were low, almost a purr. Continuing their slow, maddening path, his fingers brushed her skin until they were stopped by silken white gloves. His eyes had dropped to her arm, following his fingers, concentrating on the effect they were having.

He dragged his fingers back up her arm with what seemed like nonchalance, but it was really a selfish attempt to catch his breath, to slow things down. They were alone. For the first time in weeks, he had her all to himself. No children. No annoying chaperones. And all kinds of possibilities were filling his head. His fingers tracked a path down her arm for a second time, and he just knew it would be driving her wild.

"Erhm… arh, why, erhm…" he cleared his throat, his words sounding a little choked as he tried to clear his mind. "Why don't we get a little more comfortable?" His fingers stopped moving as his eyes shot up to hers.

"What do you have in mind, Captain?" Maria whispered, his dark look sucking the air from her lungs.

"Why don't you slip out of your dress?" _Dear God, what did he just say?_ The words were out before he could stop them, before he realised he'd actually said them. Cursing his treacherous thoughts, he forced a reassuring smile that did little to betray the dangerous look in his eyes. _God, why did she have to be such a temptation?_ He didn't want to take advantage of the situation but resisting her was impossible. It always had been. _How was he going to stop himself now?_ "The bedroom is over there," he motioned with his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

Nodding slowly, Maria's heart was beating faster than she'd ever imagined it could. She had no idea how tonight was going to end, but she didn't care. She trusted Georg more than anyone, more than anything in the world. But when he looked at her with those dark eyes, when his voice was low and dangerous, the truth was, she didn't trust herself.

"I'll go draw the curtains," he whispered, unwrapping his arm from her waist.

Turning towards the bedroom, she'd barely taken a step before she felt his hand clutching at her wrist, pulling her up suddenly. Confused, she spun around, but before she could think, before she knew what was happening, he was tugging her body roughly towards him, and his mouth was on hers, devouring her with another searing kiss, and then another.

"Oh, Maria…" he sighed as he kissed her again, and again. Still holding her wrist, his other hand found her waist and pulled her closer. As her body fell against his, he heard her sigh. _God, she felt it too!_ Relief. The relief of her body pressing into his, her mouth, her tongue, losing himself in her warmth, her scent. "Maria…" her name left his lips but was lost in their kisses.

His hand moved down, finding her waist, moving slowly over the curve of her hip, before clutching her thigh. She pushed her body against his, moaning her approval. He smiled against her mouth, pleased with her response. _Oh, God, he was losing control._ They both were. He was supposed to be slowing things down. _He should be drawing those damn curtains._ But her lips were so soft and inviting, her mouth so demanding. She'd spent so much time in a convent, how had she ever learned to kiss like this? It was a mystery. _Have to stop. _Her kisses were too delicious, she tasted so good. Just another kiss, just one more. Must stop. _Have to stop._

Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth from hers. "Maria, darling…" Giving her a tight smile, he tried his best to ignore her body moving against his as she tried to catch her breath. He didn't need to drop his eyes, he could feel her chest pushing into him every time she filled her lungs. "The curtains…I really need to..."

She smiled back at him. But it wasn't the uncertain smile of an innocent young woman. He knew that kind of smile. Did she know? How could she? Surely, he was mistaken. Did she realise the power she had over him? _Was he that obvious?_

"Georg…"

"Mmmm?" Hearing her say his name always made his heart race, but his name on her swollen, breathless lips, sent his heart and mind spinning all over again.

Maria smiled at him and reached down to cover his hand that was still holding her leg. "You'd better let me go," her words a breathless whisper. Squeezing his hand, she wished for the hundredth time tonight she wasn't wearing gloves.

"Oh, yes, erhm…" thankfully it was too dark for her to see him blush, "of course." He lifted his hand and let go of her wrist. _God, he'd completely lost his mind._ "Well, I'd better… those curtains."

He stood, stuck to the spot, watching her turn towards the bedroom. His eyes raked slowly down her body, her evening gown hugged every curve, captured every movement of her body. He could admit it now. He'd been haunted for weeks. From the moment she'd emerged from the lake dripping wet and so delightfully worked up. He could admit that now. His fingers started moving as his mind busied itself with each of her soft curves, keen to the discover the tiniest freckles, desperate to learn the story behind every mark, every scar.

She stopped suddenly and turned to smile at him. He froze. _Caught!_ Did she know what he was thinking? Of course, she did. Giving her an awkward smile, he reminded himself she'd had him worked out from the beginning. She knew him better than he knew himself. As she turned away, his eyes lingered on her narrow waist, her hips teasing him as they sashayed across the room. Weeks had passed since that day by the lake, but tonight, it felt like a lifetime ago.

The fingers on both hands started moving again. Still holding his breath, he watched her walk down the short hallway towards the bedroom. He continued staring, long after she'd disappeared from sight. A soft glow suddenly appeared from the hallway. She must have turned on a light. He took a step towards the bedroom but stopped. _The curtains!_ Reluctantly, he turned towards the windows and slowly made his way across the room.

Reaching out, he released the cord holding back the first curtain. Watching it fall and cover half the window, he reached for the chord of the next curtain. Finally, no chaperones, no children demanding her attention, stealing her away from him. And thankfully, no smug interruptions or disapproving looks from Max, who had developed an unnerving ability to read his every corrupt thought these days. He swore the man was part blood hound when it suited him. But there'd be none of that tonight. Tonight, they were alone. Just the two of them. And no one else knew. He felt a surge of anticipation and excitement. He couldn't rush things, he had to take things slowly. And he certainly couldn't take things too far. Reaching the last of the four windows, he stopped for a moment to take one final look at Vienna's skyline.

If Max returned to the ball, it would be hours before he made it back to the hotel. He'd probably spend the early hours of the morning at a bar with old navy mates. Ordinarily, if his life hadn't taken such a delightfully unexpected turn, he'd be joining them. Drinking himself to oblivion for a navy consigned to history, with nothing but the memories of old men to keep it alive.

Over the years, they'd always asked him along, but it had only been these past few years that he'd actually joined them. He cringed, remembering his relief at closing the taxi door on Elsa as he sent her home, using his old navy friends as a convenient excuse. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. As much as he'd tried to fall in love, looking back now, his time with Elsa had been endless excuses and compromise. Those nights churning over past glories and painful memories had always left him dark and melancholy. Still, they'd been preferable to spending a night with Elsa. He shifted his guilty. _Thank God, he no longer recognised that man. _So much had changed over the summer. Thankfully, he'd changed.

Staring out at the night sky, he felt the familiar pang. Vienna's night sky was beautiful, but there really was no match for the beauty of the inky ocean stretching out forever under a starry night. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to endure a mournful night with old mates.

Instinctively, his trained eyes searched out the North Star. Tonight, was different. He'd trade all those drunken, desolate nights for just one night with Maria. It had been the same with Agathe. How was it possible to be blessed twice over? Two women, both so very different, yet very much the same. And him, so utterly lost without them…

"Georg?"

His head spun around at the muffled sound of his name.

"Coming!" he called out, hurriedly releasing the chord holding back the last curtain. He stopped, making sure they met in the middle of the window, before turning to quickly make his way across the room towards the bedroom. Before he was even halfway across the sitting room, his fingers were moving. _What did she need?_ For a few stray moments, all kind of unruly images flashed through his mind.

Stopping, he held onto the back of one of the armchairs close to the doorway leading to the hall. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths. It didn't work. His heart was still beating hard, pounding against his ribs.

His feet began to move, taking him along the hallway, passing the doorways halfway along. On his left was the door that led to the walk-in robe and dressing room, while directly opposite was the door that led to the bathroom. Not wanting to look like he was rushing, he forced his feet to slow down, the soft light growing brighter as he approached the end of the dimly lit hallway.

"What is…" he stopped suddenly. He'd barely entered the bedroom, and the air was ripped from his lungs. She was a vision in the soft warm light from the lamp on the bedside table.

"Oh, Georg," Maria turned towards his voice, her arms contorted behind her back. "Can you help?"

"Help?" He looked at her blankly.

"I can't undo this hook, not in these gloves," she exhaled in a huff, her fringe moving in a puff of frustration. "And I can't get these gloves off."

He smiled at her. "Let me have a look," he began walking across to where she was standing next to the enormous bed with its plush pillows and soft cover. His fingers started moving slowly, burning to touch her again. It had been far too long since he'd undressed a woman. He'd missed the thrill of unwrapping the layers of silk, cotton and lace. Even years later, long after unravelling the mystery of what lay underneath, he never grew tired of the slow, seductive ritual.

As he came to a stop in front of her, he reminded himself he was just helping her remove her gloves and unhook at the back of her dress. That's all. Nothing more. _Don't get carried away, man._

"Hold out your arm, darling," the tenderness of his words masked his selfish demand. She held out an arm towards him, and with both hands, he started rolling the hem of the glove slowly, carefully down her arm.

Watching him expertly remove her glove, Maria's eyes never left her arm, enjoying the feel of his fingers brushing her skin as he rolled the glove over her elbow and gradually down her forearm. "This bedroom is enormous, Georg," she whispered.

"Mmmm…" he replied nonchalantly, trying to appear unaffected. With one glove removed and discarded on the bed, he moved onto the next one. "Is it?" he asked absentmindedly, pretending he hadn't noticed they were in the bedroom.

"It's even bigger than the sitting room," she glanced around at the sumptuous king-sized bed, the chairs and settee scattered around the edges of the room, and the ceiling to floor curtains covering the windows along one of the walls. But the gentle scraping of his fingers on her forearm quickly brought her attention back to her glove.

"It's all yours tonight, darling," he smiled as he pulled the glove over her fingers and draped it on bed next to its mate. "Now, turn around and I'll see if I can work out how to undo this hook," he flexed his fingers at the thought.

"It's hidden right at the top, there's a bit of a trick to it," she offered over her shoulder as she turned. "And then there's an invisible zipper."

_Zipper?_ He looked up at her soft hair, still a little messed from their kisses. She hadn't said anything about unzipping her dress. Reaching up, tentatively, he found the hook at the neckline. "You looked beautiful tonight, Maria," he whispered against her neck, his voice a soft whisper. Taking his eyes away from the hook for a moment, he smiled as she shivered. He wondered if it was his touch, or his warm breath on her skin. _Remember, don't get too carried away, man!_ "You were a vision…"

"Oh, Georg, don't be silly," Maria closed her eyes at his hot breath tickling her skin, "I was just hoping and praying I wouldn't trip over my new shoes."

"Really, I didn't notice," he stopped wrestling with the hook to run a forefinger along the curve of her neck. He smiled as her head moved instinctively to the side, but he quickly dropped his eyes back to the hook before he let himself get carried away. "I kept telling myself," his voice dropped to a low purr, "I was the luckiest man in the room." His fingers suddenly stopped wrestling with her dress as he recalled the looks from the other men. Remembering himself, he returned his attention to the hook. "What is wrong with these damn dressmakers?"

"What's wrong, darling?" Maria smiled at his outburst.

"Why do they insist on making these things so damn difficult for a man?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Don't be in such a rush!" she soothed him gently. "We've got all night."

His fingers stopped fumbling with the hook for a moment. _All night?_ Was she teasing him? Was she trying to seduce him? Surely, not. Was it just his imagination, or had something shifted? The air around them seemed suddenly heavy, suddenly it seemed harder to breathe. His heart was certainly beating faster. _Was hers?_ His eyes narrowed, finding her neck, searching for her pulse. _Was it racing like his?_ Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath and turned back to the hook.

"Ah, finally!" With the hook now released, the neckline came apart to reveal the top of the zipper. Holding his breath, he grasped the slider between his thumb and forefinger, and slowly pulled it down. Taking his time, he savoured the slow reveal of the soft skin on her back. In all likelihood, he was the first man to set eyes on the skin that lay hidden under the dark blue silk. Stirred by the thought, he stopped to brush her skin with his fingers. He glanced up. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he was sure there'd been a change.

Moving the slider, he reminded himself, there was no need to hurry. She was right. They had all night. _Oh God, he couldn't think._ He was holding the slider so tightly, it was surely going to leave marks in his skin. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to push away all the stray thoughts, all the…

The zipper came to a sudden stop.

It had caught on something. It must be her undergarment. He slipped a forefinger under the closed part of the zipper, freeing it from whatever lay underneath, and carefully inched the slider down.

"What on Earth?" his words were barely audible. He sucked in a breath, letting go of the zipper as if he'd been burned. _God, there must be some mistake… _

"Is everything alright?" Maria's eyes shot open, her head spun around, as she asked the question over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Black lace…?" the words were choked. The edges of the dress had fallen back in place, covering her back again. He must be seeing things. His pulse was racing, he couldn't think above the sound of blood pounding in his head. With his thumbs, he carefully, tentatively separated the unzipped opening at the back of the dress. He swallowed hard. There was no mistaking the black lace at the top of her undergarment. _What had he been expecting?_ Sensible white cotton. Something resembling one of her night gowns. He wasn't sure. All he knew, he hadn't been prepared for _black lace_…

"I hope you don't mind, Georg," Maria had turned away and was staring back across the bed toward the curtains covering the large windows. "Everything I had was white and poked out from under my dress."

"No, no… I don't mind." _What was wrong with his voice? Why was it so high-pitched?_

"I went shopping earlier in the week with Liesl, and we…"

"With Liesl…?" His fingers suddenly let go of her dress.

"Well, I really had no one else, and she didn't…"

"You took Liesl shopping for lingerie?" _What was she thinking?_

"I know you keep thinking of Liesl as your little girl…"

"She's only sixteen," he answered defensively, his hand moving beside his leg.

"She's almost seventeen, darling," Maria gently reminded him.

"Alright, alright…" he sighed, "and before you say it, yes she's no longer a child, she's a young woman." He reached up and slowly, tentatively peeled open her dress. His voice dropped, "but, darling, lacy black lingerie?"

"Georg, I'm not sure what you were expecting," her voice was soft and sweetly innocent, "but it really was the most practical we could…"

But he'd stopped listening. _Practical?_ From the little he'd seen, it was anything but practical. _Sensual, seductive, alluring and far too tempting._ But not practical. He needed to see more. He grasped the slider and slowly began unzipping her dress again. Holding his breath, he watched as more black lace appeared. What had started as a distant stirring, now had a life of its own. Arousal was coursing through his body. _What had happened to his innocent, young fiancé?_

She'd always been clever and wise, but when did she become so sophisticated and seductive? There'd been so many chaperones and children over the past weeks, perhaps he'd missed something. He'd hoped, he'd imagined, God knows he'd dreamed, but only now was he starting to realise. The zipper continued its slow path down her back over the lace to reveal a layer of black silk. A chemise, or perhaps a slip? His pulse was racing, his primal instincts had kicked in, taking over as discovering exactly where the black silk ended became the only thing that mattered.

"…so, you see, I really had no choice but to take Liesl with me."

He looked up, suddenly realising she'd been talking all this time. He hadn't a clue what about. Right now, he couldn't care less about a shopping trip to Salzburg. All he could think about was revealing more of his beautiful bride-to-be. Especially now that the zipper had passed down the length of her back, over her waist and partway down her gorgeous, round behind. His mouth was dry. He had to think, but his mind was spinning.

He took a deep breath. Gently taking hold of the dress' shoulder straps, he lingered for a selfish moment before inching them off her shoulders. Finally letting them go, he watched the straps slide slowly down her arms. _Was there anything more exciting or erotic than undressing a woman?_ With the dress hanging around her hips, she was the perfect contradiction of soft, pure skin and forbidden lacy silk. He couldn't breathe, his fingers were moving against his legs, burning to touch her, burning to feel her soft skin. But he was afraid to move, unable to trust what he might do. A few moments passed before she moved her hips from side to side. Shocked, his wide eyes followed the dress as it slipped over her hips and fell in a pool around her feet, raking over her body, taking in every detail.

His eyes shot up from the floor. It was a silk slip. The wide hem of fine black lace finished just above her knees. His eyes followed her toned calves, resting on the soft, sensitive skin at the back of her knees. They were still covered in silk stockings, but it was much more than he'd seen before. _So much more._ True, during frantic, stolen moments in his study, his fingers had traced her calves as his hand had disappeared under her skirts and skated to mysterious, hidden places. But this was the first time he'd seen so much of her.

He watched, barely blinking, as she leaned forward and placed a hand on the bed, steadying herself so she could step over the pooled dress. As she bent over, the lace hem of the slip moved up the back of her legs, revealing black suspenders holding her stockings in place. His mouth opened, but there was no sound. His eyes moved to her backside, moving and teasing as she stepped over her dress. _ She was killing him._

Forcing himself not to reach out for her, his hands were fisted into tight balls, nails digging into his palms. But he didn't feel a thing. All he felt was the next surge of desire, the burning need to make love to this woman who he loved with all his heart. She was barely dressed, while he was still wearing his tailcoat, and the urge to take her here and now was overpowering. _God, it was almost impossible!_ Without even trying, she was seducing him, bringing him undone without any effort.

"Can I get you to undo this chain?" With the dress now draped over the edge of the bed, she straightened up, her back still turned to him.

Dumbfounded, he reached up and fumbled with the latch on the chain at the back of her neck. Right now, she could ask him to anything, and he would. Gladly. Finally, he released the hook from its catch, and she caught the chain in her hand. The chain had slipped from his fingers, but they didn't leave her neck. He leaned forward and breathed in her familiar, heavenly perfume, his head spinning as he drowned in that unmistakable scent of a woman. His fingers followed the curve of her neck to her shoulders, stopping at the thin black straps. He resisted the temptation to slide them off her shoulders too.

She slowly turned to face him. _God, she was beautiful! _ In the soft light of the bedside lamp, his fingers traced along her collarbone, meeting in the middle and continuing a slow, lazy path down the valley between her breasts, his hands rising and falling with her chest, in perfect time to her rapid, shallow breaths. But their path was stopped by black lace. His eyes narrowed, discovering more black lace and silk under the slip. He felt a new surge of excitement course through his body. _He had to touch._ Just the smallest of touches, he promised himself, nothing more.

One of his thumbs moved, gently tracing the soft mound of her breast, hidden from him under layers of silk. The palm of his other hand moved slowly down her stomach, stopping at her waist before finding her lower back. Instinctively, it moved lower. _Claiming, kneading._ Her breathing had changed, and was now coming faster, but he was too distracted to notice. He was far too busy concentrating on the slow, steady exploration of his thumb. Moving back, then forth, a little further this time, only to retreat and give up some ground. He knew only too well his teasing would be driving her wild.

Finally, after teasing both of them, his thumb found what it was looking for. Her obvious excitement, her arousal, sent white, hot desire surging through his veins. Her breathing was coming much harder, faster, somewhere in the fog, he was sure she grabbed at his jacket. All the time, his thumb kept drawing lazy circles, while the rest of his hand held her in its palm. Under the soft pad of his thumb, she'd been growing harder. Knowing exactly what she needed, he increased the pressure, before slowing his movement. Forgetting himself for a moment, his touch became a little rougher, before returning to a maddening, gentle pace. He didn't want to take her too far, too soon. A drawn out, leisurely pace, was always more satisfying. All the while, he concentrated on the feel of her in his hand, under his thumb. The thought of his tongue dragging back and forth, his mouth nipping and tugging, set off a new wave of desire.

She moaned…

His eyes shot up. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her head thrown back. His eyes widened as the image of her in the throes of ecstasy filled his head. _Just wait until he took her completely, wait until she was truly his._ But right now, he had to take control. He was on the edge of going too far, much further than he'd planned. He bent down, his lips brushed hers. She opened her mouth against his, rewarding him with a deep, hungry kiss. He shivered, letting his mouth sink into hers. His hand had stilled, pressed between their bodies, but still wrapped around her breast.

There was a hand in his hair. She moaned again. She kissed him. A desperate, sensual kiss. He had to stop, but her hips were pressing into his, her insistent mouth, those delightful moans filled his head. He fought the urge to push her back, to gently fall with her onto the bed, to sink into her soft body, to make love to her. He tried to think. He had to stop. Instinctively, she was pushing her hips against him, her body telling her exactly what she needed. His hand was splayed across her backside, holding her to him. Could she feel how much he needed her? He was aching for her. _Have to stop._ He was drowning in her, losing the battle. Losing himself.

"Darling…" the word was swallowed by one of their desperate kisses. _Losing control, have to stop_. Summoning all his strength, he forced his mouth from hers. "Maria…" he whispered, barely an inch from her, "I…" Words escaped him as he watched her open her eyes, lids heavy, pupils wide and dark with desire. "We can't…" he tried to fill his lungs, but they were sharing the same air. "We can't… get carried away." He extracted his hand from between their bodies and was now cupping her cheek. "As much as I want to… I would love to," he added with a dangerous smile. _Did she know just how much?_

Breathing hard, Maria nodded quickly. He was right. As much as she craved his touch and kisses, they had to wait. Otherwise, they'd be the couple everyone was gossiping about. She'd all but forgotten about them, but suddenly she could hear their spiteful comments and snide laughter from earlier in the evening. "You're right," she whispered, trying to catch her breath. Smiling, she smoothed his hair, pushing his fringe back from his forehead. Still wearing his formal suit and medals, he looked uncharacteristically dishevelled, despite her best efforts.

He needed to think, needed to clear the fog in his head. _Distance!_ He needed to put some distance between them. He couldn't think with her standing here in nothing but black lace and soft silk, looking so utterly adorable. Some time alone, that's what he needed. Some time to get his raging desire under control. "Why don't…" he drew in a deep breath, "…I go get changed?" He brushed her cheek and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. What was he doing? Why was he touching her, kissing her? _Walk away, man!_ "Wait here. I'll be back shortly."

Reluctantly, he turned away, forcing one unsteady foot in front of the other. After a few steps, his fingers were moving again. _His burning need to touch her._ Still there, worse than ever. Somehow, he made it to the doorway.

But, like a fool, he couldn't resist. He turned back for one last look.

_Oh, God…_

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, slowly lifting the skirt of her slip to reveal her suspenders. Concentrating hard, she didn't even notice he was standing in the doorway, holding onto its frame. Releasing the first of her stockings from its clips, she carefully rolled it down her thigh, slowing as she eased the silk over her knee. She continued rolling it down the length of her calf, then slowed again to gently release her foot. With one leg free, she moved her attention to the other one. Removing it with as much care, and just as captivating as the first. Of course, like everything she did, she was adorably unaware just how seductive her movements were. She always was.

With both legs released from their silk, she closed her eyes and stretched them out, arching her aching feet. She must have sensed she wasn't alone because her eyes flew open as she turned towards the door. _Oh God, caught again!_ He was staring at her wide-eyed but forced an awkward half-grin. She smiled at him, that beautiful, gorgeous smile of hers. Forcing himself to keep moving, he quickly turned and disappeared through the doorway.

His mind reeling, he stumbled down the hall. Turning into the bathroom, he flicked on the light switch just inside the door. He walked straight to the vanity and turned on a tap. Bending down, he splashed his face with cold water, his eyes closed, his hand fumbled, finding the towel hanging neatly on the rail nearby. Wiping his face dry, he caught his reflection in the mirror. He was still out of breath, and his heart was beating so hard, he could see his chest heaving in the mirror. _You're supposed to be pampering her, not taking advantage of her._ Disgusted, he went to turn away, but his eyes fell on the reflection of the large, claw-foot bath. _A chance to redeem himself._

"Darling, would you like me to run you a bath?" he stuck his head around the door and called out from the hallway. _God knows, he could do with a cold shower._

"Oh, that would be lovely!" Maria answered from the bedroom.

He crossed the room to the enormous claw-foot bath, which stretched out along the length of the wall opposite the doorway. Placing the plug in the drain, he turned on the taps and held his hand under the hot water tap, waiting for the water to heat up. Testing the water in the bath, he adjusted the cold water tap a little, then busied himself getting towels and a robe from one of the cupboards.

He picked up one of the bottles arranged neatly on the vanity near one of the hand basins. Reading the label, he put it back and picked up another of the bottles. _Roses._ He smiled wickedly to himself as an image of Maria lying on a bed of rose petals suddenly found its way to the front of his mind. Cursing his stray thoughts away, he turned and dropped some of the rose-scented oil into the bath.

Turning his back on the bath, he made his way back to the hallway. "Don't be too long," he called out to the bedroom, "I've left the water running."

Walking across the hallway and into the large dressing room lined with robes, he kicked off his boots. Stooping to pick them up by the heels, he walked across to where his clothes had been hung and laid out perfectly since his arrival. Always a navy man, he thought to himself, even in a hotel room. Feeling like he'd wrestled back some control, he busied himself with changing out of his formal clothes and did his best to ignore everything else.

Taking off his tailcoat, he hung it carefully on an empty clothes hanger, brushing impatiently at a piece of fluff before returning it to the wardrobe. He unclipped and removed his cufflinks, placing them in their jeweller's box, before removing his bowtie. Undoing his Maria Theresa medal, he laid it carefully in its velvet-lined box. He smiled as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. This is exactly what he needed. The mundane ritual of undressing. He hung his waistcoat on a hanger and placed it next to his tailcoat.

Unbuttoning his starched white shirt, he stopped. He strained his ears. He no longer heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. _For God's sake, just ignore it!_ Forcing his feet to stay exactly where they were, he impatiently tugged the tail of his shirt from his trousers and undid the last of the buttons. His mutinous ears, instinctively tuned to every sound coming from the bathroom, heard running water again. He stopped and hesitated for a moment. _Don't do it, man!_ But as much as he tried, he couldn't stop himself. Turning, his feet moved quickly to the end of the room, slowing as he reached the doorway. He stepped quietly, slowly across the hallway to the bathroom door.

He pulled up suddenly.

Grasping for the doorframe, he found Maria in her black silk and lace, her back to him. Bending down, she skated her fingers across the top of the water, testing the temperature. Satisfied this time, she stood up, sliding the thin straps of her silk slip off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her feet. He let out a gasp and quickly ducked out of sight. Holding his breath, he peered around the doorframe. She hadn't heard him over the running water.

Biting his lower lip, he watched on as she reached across the bath to turn off the taps, the muscles tightening across her back. Easing out of her undergarments, they found their way onto the floor with her slip. She stretched out a long leg to kick them away from the bath.

_Oh, dear Lord... she was a gift from heaven…_

His eyes moved lower, raking over her naked body. Down to her waist, over her hips, that pert, round bottom, and along those legs that had teased him all night underneath a layer of blue silk. _She was perfect._ Biting his lower lip harder, he watched her carefully step over the bath's edge, sighing with relief as she slowly lowered herself into the water. She'd rolled up one of the towels he'd left out for her, and now she was slowly leaning back, stretching her long legs out in front of her. With the rolled towel under her head, she eased back, closing her eyes.

He held his breath, watching her. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he wondered what she was dreaming about. Was she thinking of him? Was her body aching for his touch? He hoped so. _Did she know how much he wanted her? __Did he leave her in any doubt? He could feel the familiar tug._

His fingers were moving, burning. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to reach out and cup her perfect breasts, to watch her harden as the water lapped at them. He had to feel them, wanted to trace them again with his fingers, run his thumb across them. But this time, he wanted to explore more, there was so much to discover. As she leaned against the bath and arched her back, he imagined a hand leaving her breast, moving down over her stomach. Fingers dipping lower, gently searching, playing. _ Teasing, tormenting, driving her mad…_ He pushed himself off the doorframe. He had to touch her, had to…

She started humming, breaking his thoughts, stopping him in his tracks. _God, what was he doing?_ He turned quickly and fled from the bathroom, hoping she hadn't noticed him. As he hid in the hall, back pressed into the wall beside the doorway, her humming became soft singing. An Austrian folk song about love. _She had to be thinking about him._ His excitement was growing, his burning desire was stirring back to life. He couldn't stay here, he had to move. Instead of walking across the hall to the dressing room, he walked down the hallway towards the sitting room. His open shirt flapped around him as he ran an unsteady hand through his hair, but he didn't notice.

His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was supposed to be getting control of this thing. Instead, he was more aroused than ever. He flopped onto the middle of the sofa, filling his lungs with air. _Inhaling, exhaling._ He closed his eyes, concentrating on her sweet, innocent voice. How far away was the damn wedding? Too far. Much too far for him to take advantage of her. Not tonight.

She was singing Edelweiss now. He smiled, his mind drifting back to the villa, to a warm summer evening in the sitting room. The evening when he'd first dared to believe she might feel something, even just a hint of something.

Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow  
Bloom and grow forever

He pictured that look of hers, the one he would never forget. He smiled. Her and the children had banded together and forced him to sing, but she always sang so much better than him. Like an angel. His angel.

Edelweiss, Edelweiss  
Bless my homeland forever

Their homeland. His mind drifted back to earlier in the evening. For a dark moment, he wondered what was to become of their homeland, the home they loved…

_I need somebody to heal  
Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold…  
I fall into your arms  
I'll be safe in your sound til I come back around_

It was dark. Pitch dark. He tried to move, tried to lift his arm. It was heavy, heavy like lead. Something was holding it down. _But what?_ He looked down. Everything was black. He couldn't see a thing. His chest was tight, something was suffocating him. _But what?_

He shivered. His body was cold. He heard something. _Was that his name? Where did it come from?_ His head spun around. The heat hit him. Hit him hard. He tried to fill his lungs. But the air was hot. Burning hot. His throat was on fire, his lungs felt like they were going to explode. He tried to move his arms. Have to get away. He called out. Still no answer. Need to get their attention. Need help. Still couldn't lift his arm. _Where were they? Why didn't they come?_ Call out again. This time louder. Don't panic, they'll come. Keep yelling. Hope they find him. _Where were they?_ Pray they find him…

"Georg! Georg!"

His eyes flew open. _Where was he?_

"I'm here, Georg…" Already kneeling on the floor, Maria wrapped him in her arms and cradled him against her. "Shhh, I've got you, darling…" she soothed as she kissed his forehead and smoothed his damp hair. "It's alright, sshh…"

"Maria?" Relieved, he closed his eyes, but quickly opened them. _They were still there_. An ocean on fire, faceless men, skin dripping into the boiling water...

"You were having a bad dream," she whispered, rocking him gently. "It's over now."

"Where are we?" he whispered, trying to lift his head, but she held him tight against her chest.

"The hotel," she reminded him softly, "the sitting room."

"The sitting room?" He tried to sit up.

"It's alright, darling," she kissed his forehead, "you fell asleep while I was having a bath." She could still feel the tension in his body. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you," she whispered against his ear, "I covered you with a blanket and thought…"

"What time is it?"

"I'm not sure," his shouting had woken her from a dead sleep, so she guessed it was late. "I'm sorry I left you here…"

"Stay with me…?" It was more a plea than a question. "Please…"

"I'm here, darling, I'm not going anywhere," she whispered into his hair.

"Don't leave me," he'd freed an arm from the blanket and his hand clutched at her arm.

"Never, Georg," she brushed his hair from his forehead before leaving another kiss. "I'll never leave."

_His angel of mercy had arrived. Again…_

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read and review. Special thanks to the guest reviewers, who I can't thank personally.**

**I hope everyone, including your family and friends, are safe and well. Hopefully, lockdown restrictions in your part of the world have been eased a little, or at least will be soon. Praying that things are finally improving. I'm sure we'll never take those silly little, everyday things for granted again. **

**Still struggling with this corona-fog, so I probably shouldn't be surprised that I started this chapter with a plan in mind, but it ended up somewhere a little different. It was one of those chapters where my characters took control... So, of course, I'm holding them responsible for everything, including the chapter being so bloody long!**

**This chapter is a birthday gift for a dear friend - huge hugs, and sorry I'm a little late (that damn corona-fog).**

**As you know, I don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.**

**"****Immerse your soul in love"**


	7. Chapter 7

Stifling a yawn, she ignored how tired she was. Tonight, sleep was doing its best to sneak up on her, like one of those misty fogs rolling down from the Alps. Her eyes were heavy, but she refused to give in, forcing them to stay open. She'd made a silent promise, which she intended to keep. Even if that meant she had to stay awake all night.

At the sound of him stirring, her eyes shot open. He stopped moving, pausing for a moment. Staring at him, wide-eyed, she held her breath, as if their world was suspended in time. He lifted his head and murmured something. Something that made no sense. Not at this hour of the night, not when she was half asleep herself. She tried to soothe him with a gentle touch, but he just mumbled more words she couldn't understand. "Sshhh…" she whispered against his ear. "It's alright, darling, I'm here…"

Holding her breath, she waited for him to settle. Moments seemed to drag into minutes before he buried his cheek back down against her. A few more minutes passed, and she could hear his deep, heavy breathing once again. Finally, able to relax, she let out her breath on a sigh of relief, praying his sleep wouldn't be broken by more haunting memories. With every movement, every murmur, her senses were on edge. She allowed herself a satisfied smile as he wrapped his arm tighter around her, nestling against her soft chest.

Glancing across the room, searching for a crack between the curtains, it seemed it was still pitch dark outside. She had no idea what the time was. In the darkness, in the strange room with its unfamiliar sounds, she'd lost all sense of time. Hours might have slipped by, it was impossible to know. There was a clock somewhere on the side table, but, unless she moved, she had no way of seeing it from where she was. He'd made her promise to keep the lamp on, so she was sure if she turned her head carefully, she'd find the clock. But now that he'd settled again, she didn't dare disturb him. Anyway, the minutes or hours didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping that nightmare at bay.

Looking down at him, she smiled, relieved at how quickly his slow, deep breathing had returned this time. While she forced herself to stay awake, she'd been discovering the strange sounds he made while sleeping. If she waited a little longer, his breathing would turn into gentle snoring. She smiled again. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Captain von Trapp would snore in his sleep. He always seemed so distinguished, so in control. But then, it was just another of the many things she was still learning about him.

With his head resting heavily on her chest, somewhere near her shoulder, her arm was starting to feel a little numb. She had to move. Perhaps if she did it slowly, a little at a time, he might not notice. Watching him closely in the soft light, she held her breath and moved. Just an inch. He mumbled something, it could have been anything, then quickly settled back, burrowing his head against her.

Giving up on the idea, she reached up with her free hand and brushed his fringe back from his forehead. She wondered what he'd seen earlier. _What horrors from the past still haunted him?_ For someone so brave, who'd seen all those battles, his head must be filled with so many horrible images. Or perhaps it was his wife's death that still clawed at him. Or was there something else, something in his past she was yet to discover. He was so strong and brave, always such a commanding, dominating force. Whatever it was, it was bad. The fear and panic in his eyes had told her that.

There was _one_ thing she knew for certain. She would never forget his cries for help. The panic and fear, the blood curdling screams that had woken her, sent her running to the sitting room, searching for him.

She bent her head, kissing his hair and resting her cheek against him. She knew only too well how bad memories and a difficult past could creep up on you in the middle of the night. Feeling less sleepy now, she wrapped her arm tightly around him. Determined to stay awake, she was going to make sure she kept her promise.

She couldn't help wondering if there'd ever be a time when she'd discover everything there was to know about the man lying in her arms. Burying her cheek in his hair, breathing in his musky scent, she doubted it. He was as dark and mysterious as he was tender and loving. And all those different, conflicting facets somehow fitted together to make him the complicated man she loved with all her heart.

_And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes  
I fall into your arms  
I'll be safe in your sound til I come back around_

It was soft. So soft, and so very warm. His fingers wrapped around something, tightening their hold. He clutched at it again. _Cotton._ He went to lift his head. But it was heavy, far too heavy. He didn't have the energy to fight. Or the will. Much nicer to burrow against the soft warmth. Something brushed against his forehead, making him smile as it tickled his skin. He wondered where he was, he should find out, but soft words soothed him, encouraged him to stay wrapped in a tenderness and warmth he hadn't felt for a long time. _He must be dreaming._

Soft words, warm breath against him. He answered. Said something, but not really certain what. It didn't matter. He hadn't really understood what she'd said either. _Still dreaming_. He smiled, pulling at the blanket. _Another dream of her._ Of blue eyes and luscious lips. Of short blonde hair and the softest skin. Burrowing against the warmth, the softness, an arm tightened around him.

_An arm…?_

He froze. _Where was he?_ _Who was he with?_ His eyes shot open. It was bright. A light. He was blinking against it, trying to see. _What was he wearing?_ Trousers? Struggling to lift his heavy head, blinking hard, he tried to make sense of everything, of something. _Where was he?_

"What…" he could barely get the word out.

"It's alright," she whispered softly.

"Maria…?"

"I'm here, Georg," she answered in a soothing voice.

"Here…?" He lifted his head a little higher and looked around, but was still blinking against the light. "Where are we?"

"The hotel," she answered, her words low and gentle.

"The hotel…?" he looked up at her like she was completely mad.

"Yes, darling, we were at the ball," she brushed his fringe back from his forehead. "Remember?"

"Oh…" he answered softly, still confused, still trying to shake off the fog as his eyes adjusted to the light. She smiled and nodded, and he knew at that moment nothing else mattered. She was here, and that's all he needed. She reached up again and brushed the rebellious lock of hair back off his forehead. He closed his eyes at her touch, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his hair, against his scalp. He smiled. He could stay here all night…

_All night?_

As realisation hit, his eyes shot open, dropping from the wide blue eyes that stared back at him.

"Maria?" He sat up straight, his unbuttoned shirt falling open to reveal his bare chest. _What in God's name?_ He lifted his eyes to find hers.

"Yes, Georg?" she frowned at him.

"Why are you wearing one of my shirts?"

"Oh…" she could feel her cheeks growing hot.

"I changed into it after my bath," she mumbled, shifting her eyes from his questioning look. "The lace was too itchy…"

He smiled, his eyes moving down her long neck, finding and following her cleavage, until he was pulled up by starched cotton and a button.

"I hope you don't mind…"

"Mind?" He forced his eyes back to hers and gave her a silly, lopsided smile. "No, no, of course not." _God, she looked so adorable._ "Why are we here…?" he glanced around the room.

"You fell asleep on the sofa," she watched the lines on his brow deepen. "You had a bad dream…" she brushed his cheek.

"A dream?" he whispered, his voice drifting off as his mind searched through the fog for any remaining fragments, some memory of his nightmare to cling to. Usually, the dreams would haunt him, keep him awake for the rest of the night. But, tonight, his mind just drew a blank. "I can't remember…"

"You woke me, so I sat with you."

"On the sofa?"

"That's right, darling," she smiled.

"But if we were on the sofa, what are we doing here?" His frown deepened. "In bed…" his voice dropped even lower.

"Oh… I hope you don't mind," Maria blushed again. "It was getting cold, and I couldn't leave you on your own," she gave him a little shrug. "It just made sense."

"I can't remember…" he whispered, still trawling his mind. His last memory was her singing. "I can't remember a thing…"

"That's alright," she reached up and cupped his cheek, recalling how he'd let her lead him to the bedroom, like one of the children. "It's probably for the best."

Wondering what the time was, he glanced across at the bedside table, flooded in soft light from the lamp. He was surprised to see how late it was. "Why is the light still on?" he wondered out loud.

"You made me promise to keep it on," she answered softly.

He leaned into her and caught her lips in a tender kiss. "Thank you," he whispered. "I hope I didn't scare you," his fingers brushed her cheek. He gave her a tight smile as she shook her head a little unconvincingly. Agathe had told him how bad it could be.

"It will be getting light soon," he wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "I should leave," he tightened his hold and kissed her hair.

"I wish you didn't have to," she whispered against his muscle and warmth.

"You know I'd love to spend all night here," he smiled at her as she looked up at him through her long lashes. "But we both know I can't."

She nodded, trying to stifle a yawn. "You're tired," he whispered, "was I that difficult to sleep with?"

"I didn't want to fall asleep," she watched his eyes narrow as a frown grew on his brow. "In case your nightmare returned."

"Oh, Maria!" He pulled her to him, enjoying the feel of her laying against his bare chest. "Where would I be without you?"

But of course, he already knew the answer to that. He'd be lost. Just exactly as she'd found him. Still floundering, still drowning in a world where everything he loved had already disappeared or was slipping through his fingers. "Close your eyes," he whispered against her hair. "I'll wait until you fall asleep."

It was almost four in the morning. He could only risk another half hour cocooned here with Maria. That would give him time to change and get to Max's room before the staff started moving around. He should be there already, but he hadn't planned on falling into such a heavy sleep. _God, he wondered what the nightmare had been about._ The last thing he remembered was sitting on the sofa, thinking about Maria and the children.

His heart surged at the thought of her watching over him. Those nights, when bad memories found him, Agathe used to do the same thing, making it possible for him to get through the dark night. He tightened his hold, glancing down at her. Strawberry blonde hair on his bare chest, moving gently up and down in time to his breathing, a hand gently resting over his heart. Staring across the room, he held his breath, listening to her soft breathing.

He still hadn't told her about the meeting, still hadn't asked her anything about the ball.

"Maria…" he whispered softly.

There was no answer. He glanced down at her and smiled. She was fast asleep.

_God, he loved her._

_Now, I need somebody to know  
Somebody to heal  
Somebody to have_

The sun on his face was warm. If it wasn't for the occasional sound of crisp autumn leaves crunching under the feet of passers-by on the footpath, you could be mistaken for thinking it was still summer. The weather had turned a few weeks earlier, but like most changes of season, this year's summer wasn't ready to bid farewell just yet.

There was a time he'd hoped the summer could go on forever. Now, he found himself wishing autumn would hurry up and end, even though it had barely begun. _Why in God's name had he agreed to a January wedding?_ It seemed years away.

Prodding with his fork, he continued pushing his food around the plate. As pleasant as the morning was, as nice as it was to sit outside the café for some air, he wasn't hungry. Breakfast was the last thing on his mind. Truth was, his mind was somewhere else. Like one of the leaves scuttling past, his mind was restless. It kept drifting down the street. Try as he might, he couldn't help wondering what was happening in the Royal Suite at the Hotel Imperial.

Apart from the occasional pedestrians and a young man sitting alone at a table further along the footpath, they were alone. He looked up at Max sitting across the table from him. The normally bustling café was so quiet this morning, he'd easily caught the attention of the young waitress and was busying himself ordering a second coffee. Giving up on his food, Georg placed his fork on the edge of the plate. Judging by the look of Max, he'd be needing many more coffees to get through the day.

"Yes, please," he smiled as the pretty young waitress looked in his direction. "Same as the last one, thank you." Perhaps another strong, black coffee was what he needed. He watched the waitress disappear into the café before taking a final, lukewarm sip to empty his first cup.

"I'm not sure sitting outside was such a good idea," Max squinted against the mid-morning sun.

"It was _your_ idea, Max," Georg reminded his friend.

Thankfully, Max had been unusually quiet this morning. Hardly surprising given he'd stumbled into the room just as the sun was rising. Not that he'd been asleep. Maria had been right. He smiled. She always was. The settee had been far too short, and far too hard. But that hadn't been the only reason sleep had evaded him. He missed her. Missed her soft warmth. Missed her cheek resting on his bare chest, her hand resting over his heart. He tried to stifle a shiver at the memory of her fingers moving across his skin. Certain she'd been dreaming about something, he'd been happy to pretend it was him. God, he couldn't wait for the morning when he could wake up with her in his arms. His body tightened at the thought. _How far away was the damn wedding?_ He knew there were certain proprieties to maintain, but why the hell had he ever agreed to such a long engagement.

"Poor Elsa is doing it hard, Georg," with another coffee on the way, Max decided to broach the subject again.

"You've already told me," Georg's response was just as blunt the second time around. He stared at his friend, wondering if he realised, he'd said exactly the same thing barely ten minutes earlier. Despite the lingering guilt, things would have been much worse if he hadn't called off their engagement. But that didn't change the fact, he'd been a fool to propose to Elsa in the first place. _God, how had he ever let it get that far?_ Sensing that Max wasn't going to let him off so lightly this time, he picked up his fork again, preferring to concentrate on his breakfast.

Thankfully, before Max could continue, the waitress returned with a tray and their steaming cups of coffee. They nodded their thanks as the cups and saucers were placed on the table, and the old ones cleared away. She also placed a second pastry in front of Max, much to Georg's surprise. He may not have heard his friend placing the order, but he knew he'd be paying for it.

"She really is heartbroken, you know," Max took a sip of coffee and looked across the rim of his cup.

"Max, I don't know what you want me to do," Georg took a mouthful of bacon and sourdough. At least he had an excuse not to answer if he was eating.

"I realise it's a difficult situation," Max conceded, "well, alright, its extremely awkward," he added as Georg frowned at him. "But she's a good friend, so we really need to…"

Taking another mouthful, he tried to follow what Max was saying, but his mind had already wound its way back to the bedroom of the Royal Suite. Back under the soft covers of the enormous bed. He wondered if she was still there. Surely, she would have risen by now. He could still see her sleeping soundly on his chest. He could have kept watching her until the morning sun had risen well above the horizon. Instead, he'd reluctantly slipped out, just managing to avoid the staff, who'd already started moving around, preparing the hotel for the day ahead.

He took a sip from his fresh cup of coffee. Max was still explaining the extent of Elsa's heartbreak, still berating him, in Max's usual, kind way. Of course, he was right. He should have been honest about everything much earlier in the piece. Unfortunately, for him to be honest with Elsa, he first had to be honest with himself. As he'd found over the years, that was the hardest thing of all. Finally facing up to his feelings for Maria had made everything else seem simple and fall into place. His world, his children, even their uncertain future, it all just seemed easier to face with her by his side. Once again, he wondered whatever would have happened if she hadn't arrived in their lives.

Chasing a piece of bacon around the plate, he hoped something would have brought him to his senses before it was too late. But he doubted it. At the thought of her wide eyes and luscious lips, his mind drifted back to her, wondering what she was doing now. He wondered if she'd found his note. _She must have._ After changing out of his trousers and creased shirt, he'd written her a note on the notepaper he'd found in the top drawer of the bureau in the sitting room.

Sneaking back to take one last look at her, he'd left the note on the pillow beside her. He'd told her to sleep in and take her time, explaining that he'd arrange for a late breakfast to be sent to her suite. Heaven knows, she deserved a lazy morning in bed. He smiled to himself, wishing he was still there with her, that he'd been there when she woke. Reminding himself how far away the honeymoon was, his silent curses quickly gave way to far more delightful thoughts, as he started counting all the wonderful, wicked ways he could wake her.

He shifted in his chair, trying to shake away the stray thoughts. He wondered if she liked the _other_ surprise he'd arranged. He checked his watch. It should have arrived by now.

"I'm sorry if I'm boring you, Georg," Max picked up the linen napkin from his lap and wiped the pastry crumbs from his mouth.

"No, no, Max," Georg picked up his cup of coffee, "please, do continue..."

"I know you don't want to hear this, Georg," Max wiped the stickiness from his fingers and placed the roughly folded napkin on the small round table. "But, for a time, you really did lead poor Elsa on. I think that's what hurt her the most. One day you're asking her to marry you, and then, quite literally, calling it off the next."

"For heaven's sake, what did you want me to do?" Georg asked, dropping his guilty eyes to chase a golden leaf along the footpath. "Surely, it was better for everyone, especially Elsa, that I called things off before any announcements were made."

"But that's just it," Max wondered how such a brilliant mind, a strategic genius, could be so clueless sometimes. "You'd been with Elsa for so long, everyone just assumed you were already engaged. It's been horribly difficult for her, trying to get back on the horse, head held high, so to speak. I'd never expected her to take things this badly, but then, I'd never expected the gossip to be so cruel…"

Georg turned back to look at Max, wondering for a moment which planet he was from. Of course, there was always going to be nasty gossip. After all, he'd ended a relationship with one of society's leading ladies to marry his children's governess. The gossip was bound to spread like wildfire. And gossip was what Elsa's so-called friends did best. It didn't help that Maria simply wasn't just one of his staff. She was a postulant on loan from the Abbey. That was only ever going to add fuel to the rumours and innuendo. Then, there was the age difference, and what they'd call her _lack of social standing._

And the gossips were always going to make up stories about what was happening under Elsa's nose and when. None of them cared about the truth, especially when nothing untoward happened while Elsa was still at the villa. He'd behaved like a gentleman. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he wished he could say the same about last night. Trying to forget his far from gentlemanly behaviour, he turned his attention back to Max.

"…I really should pay her another visit," Max smoothed down his moustache.

Having given up on his plate of food, Georg took another sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Don't forget, we're returning to Salzburg this afternoon."

"Surely, there's time for a quick visit to Elsa's," Max picked up his cup and took a sip of the strong, bitter drink. Judging by how heavy his head was still feeling, he debated whether he should order a third.

"If you like, you can pay her a visit while we go to Hede's to collect Maria's things," Georg stared into the distance, looking through the people strolling along the footpath. "That's if my sister made it home…" he mumbled under his breath, still not forgiving her for leaving Maria's side last night.

"You know, I think I will," Max forced his tired muscles into a smile, "I think it's important."

"Just don't stay too long, I'm keen to get Maria home," Georg's eyes followed a couple looking on as their two young children chased autumn leaves along the footpath. "She's missing the children," he added. Truth was, he was missing them almost as much. For the first time in a long time, thoughts of the children back home at the villa weren't filled with guilt or dread. "I don't want to be driving home in the dark or spending another night in Vienna," he smiled at the distant sound of the young girl squealing in delight as her father kicked leaves along the path in front of her. She couldn't be much older than Gretl.

"How did you go last night?"

"What?" Georg's head spun around towards Max.

"Last night…" Max took another sip of coffee. "How did it go?"

"Max! I hardly think that's any of your…"

"Settle down, Georg," Max cut off his friend's indignant response. "I'm talking about your _meeting_," Max narrowed his eyes, studying his friend's reaction over the top of his cup. "I'm not sure what _you_ thought I was talking about."

"Nothing!" The word came out a little too quick, a little too loud. Shifting in his seat, a flash of black lace and silk, soft skin and even softer lips filled his mind. "I wasn't sure _what_ you were talking about."

"So, your meeting," Max smiled to himself, "did anything come of it?"

Georg tightened his jaw and shook his head. "It didn't go well."

"What does that mean?"

Georg's head didn't move, but his eyes scanned the footpath around them before he spoke. "It all comes down to the Chancellor," he dropped his voice.

Although he didn't pay too much attention to politicians and their games, Max had already felt the impact from across the border. Many artists had moved to the continent's more tolerant west. Of those who remained, most had been forced to censor their performances or had become more discerning when it came to who they shared a stage with. None of it had been good for business, and he was sure there was worse to come.

"If Schuschnigg can hold his nerve, Austria continues as we know it," Georg continued.

"And if he doesn't?"

"Our world changes completely."

"But didn't you say…"

"I know what I said, Max," Georg snapped back, recalling his optimism over the past weeks. "The military's current leaders don't want to split from the government," he sighed, before taking another sip of coffee. "They don't seem to care who's running the country." His fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "Damn the army," he cursed under his breath, "it would be a different story if Austria still had her navy."

"Mmmm… maybe."

"Maybe?!" Georg shot back across the table, but quickly nodded and smiled apologetically at the young man who looked up from the nearby table. "I'd like to think we were built of sterner stuff in the…"

"Georg," Max cut him off in a low, soothing voice. "I know you don't want to hear this, but people are tired. They remember the War, they don't want to go back to…"

"But, Max, they must," Georg hissed back across the table. "Austria's future depends on us."

"I agree," Max continued in his soothing voice, "but they're scared for their families. They learned the hard way last time. That's why so many are happy to just try to get along with our neighbours."

"We're hardly talking about an annoying neighbour," Georg scoffed. "We're talking about a madman," he dropped his voice.

"True…" Max couldn't deny that Germany's Fruher did seem more than a little unhinged. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Georg."

"Careful?"

"In a few months, you'll have a new wife," Max flicked stray pastry crumbs from his jacket. "She's far too young to be a widow raising your seven children."

"Don't think I don't realise that," Georg answered, his thoughts far away, recalling the many times Agathe waved bravely from the front steps as he left to return to the battle raging on the seas. The braver she tried to be, the more he hated himself for leaving. "I think about it every day."

"Every one of us who served in the War, thinks about it," Max pushed his empty cup away from him. The morning was far too beautiful and the day much too young to be so melancholy. Besides his head hurt.

"Come on, Max," Georg picked up his serviette and wiped his mouth. "The sooner we pack our things and get our visiting over and done with, the sooner we can leave." Truth was, he needed to see Maria. Memories of last night's meeting were unsettling him.

_I need somebody to heal  
Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

Smoothing down the skirt of her dress, she made her way towards the door. Slowing her steps, she smiled. It had been a surprisingly busy morning. First, it had been a tray overflowing with breakfast, then she'd been surprised with the delivery of her new dress. As her hand wrapped around the door handle, she wondered who it was this time.

Pulling the door open, she smiled at the sight of Georg and Max standing in the hallway. "Good morning," she stepped aside to let them inside.

"Morning, darling," Georg took a few steps into the room before coming to a stop. His hand found hers as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. He continued walking into the sitting room, reluctantly letting her fingers slip through his.

"Good morning, Maria," closing the door behind him, Max returned Maria's radiant smile.

"Thank you, for my gift, Georg," Maria couldn't hide the delight in her voice. "It's perfect!"

Georg slowly took her in. The dress he'd had delivered from the boutique down the street fitted her like a glove. "Turn around, darling," he ordered her, his voice low and heavy as memories flooded back of a similar request on her first day at the villa.

Maria shot him a knowing look before spinning around, holding out the skirt of the sage green dress as she turned.

"You're right, it is perfect," he smiled at her as she came to a stop. As soon as he saw it, the sage green reminded him of the dress she wore to the party, the night they danced the Laendler.

"Georg, I was wondering if we'd have time to buy present for the children before we leave?" Maria reached out and took hold of his arm.

"Of course," he squeezed the hand that still rested on his arm, "we can do that while we walk over to Hede's."

"We'll be walking?"

"Yes, Max will be taking the car to pay Elsa a visit," Georg glanced across to his friend.

"Oh, Max, how is she?" Maria's worried look matched the concern in her voice.

"She'll be alright," Max reassured her, "thankfully, broken hearts have a habit of mending themselves."

"Please send her out thoughts and best wishes," Maria begged him.

Georg patted Maria's hand, wondering if he'd ever meet anyone with a bigger heart. "Max, I'll call reception and have them send someone up to collect our bags."

"When do you want to leave Hede's?" Max asked, remembering how keen Georg was to get home.

"Be there by one o'clock. That should give you enough time with Elsa," he smiled, grateful that Max was making the effort. It did help alleviate some of his guilt. "Let me get the car keys," he was already moving across the room towards the bureau.

"Oh, Georg!" Maria reached into the pocket of her new dress. "I almost forgot…"

"What do you have there?" he turned around to see Maria walking across the room holding something in her hand.

"Someone must have slid it under the door," she handed him an envelope with his name handwritten on the front.

Frowning, he studied the handwriting before turning the envelope over and tearing it open. He unfolded the paper, cursing at the Third Reich's insignia embossed at the top of the page.

"What is it?" Maria placed a hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Berlin."

"Berlin?" Maria echoed.

"An invitation," Georg snorted.

"An invitation…" Maria asked, her hand tightening around his arm. "To what?"

"Bremerhaven," he spat out the word in disgust.

"I don't understand," Maria frowned at him, dread starting to fill every pore of her body.

Somewhere behind them, Max dropped onto the sofa. "It's just the start..." he mumbled to himself.

"The Fuhrer himself has requested I visit their naval port at Bremerhaven," Georg turned his attention back to the handwriting on the envelope. _Why did it look so familiar?_ "He's offered me a commission."

"Georg, no!" Maria's heart was in her mouth. "You can't accept. How could you leave the children? After everything? You can't leave…"

"Leave you, darling?" Georg turned to her, the panic in her voice matched by the fear in her blue eyes. "Oh-ho, he wants me to move the entire family to his God-forsaken port on the North Sea."

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read and review.**

**Sadly, I still don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.**

**"****Immerse your soul in love"**


	8. Chapter 8

Georg stood back and watched on. She had a habit of getting lost in her own world. Thankfully, at least for the moment, she was far too busy to waste time worrying. Buying gifts for the children had seemed like a good idea, even if it had left him a little uneasy at first. But it was important to continue on with their plans. And in the end, for both of them, it had turned out to be the perfect distraction. _Who was he kidding?_ She was the perfect distraction.

Amused, he watched her head drop to the side as the creases on her brow deepened. Even in those early days when he'd first returned from Vienna, those stolen moments standing in the shadows of the hallway, watching her deliver lessons in the school room, he'd loved how she immersed herself in the children. Not that he was fooling himself. Her initial panic may have subsided for now, but the distraction of the children wouldn't last forever. Before long, her thoughts would return to that damn letter.

Watching on, he felt a tug of love as she focused on his children. _Their children._ Whenever he'd come to Vienna in the past, buying gifts for them had been the last thing on his mind. Even when his time away had clashed with birthdays or anniversaries, there were no presents, and never any calls home. But then, being away had never been an accident or a mere coincidence. Oh no, he would find the flimsiest excuse to flee the villa and avoid those days that were seeped in pain and filled with bitterness. Escaping the memories, leaving behind the agony of facing those days alone, knowing that if he stayed he'd be unable to raise a smile for the occasion, whatever it was, let alone force a cheerfulness that seemed so absurd and out of place. Even buying presents for Christmas had proven too much. One year, he'd tried. But his efforts hadn't amounted to more than a hopeless attempt at an incomplete gift list. Remembering with guilt how those tasks had fallen to Frau Schmidt, he cleared his throat

At the sound, Maria's head spun around with a questioning look. He nodded reassuringly and she gave him a smile. But before she had turned away completely, his feet were already shifting uneasily, trying to shake off the guilt that always accompanied the bitter memories of those dark days. Even as the weeks had become months, even as the children quickly forgave him, it seemed that time would never fully erase his shame. How often had Maria encouraged him, reassuring him it would take time? It _would_ get easier, she'd told him time and again. Perhaps she was right, perhaps it already had. At least now, he could admit his own failings. That had been a progress of sorts. For the children, it had seemed so simple. They just wanted to be loved, just wanted their father back. Forgiveness had come quickly. Forgiving himself, well, that was something entirely different.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, his eyes followed Maria as she moved along the wooden shelving, searching for their final gift. After leaving Max in the hotel foyer, their first stop had been to purchase Maria a sensible pair of shoes. This morning she'd slipped on the shoes she'd worn to the ball, but before long the red marks left on her feet from last night were threatening to become blisters. Since leaving the shoe shop, they'd made several stops to buy a present for each of the children. They'd agreed it would only be something simple, and with Max having taken the car to visit Elsa, it had to be something small.

Before they'd started, their hearts hadn't really been in it. Not when their minds were on that damn letter. It was only when they'd started shopping for the children that Maria had started to relax. To his amazement, she already knew the perfect gift for each child. He smiled to himself as she bit on her lower lip, the creases on her brow becoming a frown. _God, he loved her! _ He wished their morning hadn't been ruined, wished they could take their time and spend the day together. Alone. Just the two of them. But of course, they didn't have all day and after that letter, they were both anxious to get home. Wondering what the time was, he'd check his watch if he could, but his arms were full of gift wrapped boxes.

"What do you think, Georg?"

Dragged from of his thoughts, he gave her a smile as she held up a hairclip with a questioning look. It was a beautiful, simple piece with a row of tiny porcelain edelweiss flowers along the length of the clip. "For Louisa?" he arched a brow, trying to be feign confusion. "Are you sure?"

Seeing through his teasing and attempt to lighten the mood, Maria shook her head. "No, for Liesl, darling," she forced a smile, but it struggled to reach her eyes. She knew how difficult this was for him, even without the mysterious arrival of that letter. _That letter._ She wished she hadn't found it under the door. When she first saw it, her heart had skipped a beat thinking it was another of Georg's notes. How wrong she'd been. Wishing it weren't weighing so heavily, she tried her best to push it to the back of her mind.

"Liesl...? Of course," Georg continued playing along and gave her a half grin before his eyes fell back on the clip with its delicate star-shaped flowers. "She'll adore it."

Maria walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Wait here," she spoke softly before making her way towards the counter at the back of the shop. She still had enough change in her pocket from the bookstore where they'd bought a gift for Brigitta. Reaching the counter, she stood to the side, and waited patiently for two women to be served. She turned back to where Georg was still standing. Their eyes met, and he gave her one of his searing looks. She quickly turned away before she had a chance to make a fool of herself.

Concentrating on Liesl's hairclip, she ran her thumb gently across the edelweiss flowers. He'd told her she shouldn't worry, but it was impossible not to. The letter had been sent from the German leader, a personal invitation to take up a commission in their navy. Knowing how much Georg despised Hitler and all he stood for, there was no doubt in her mind that he would ignore the offer. But it was the sinister way the note was stuffed under the door in the early hours of the morning that was playing on her mind. Who even knew Georg was supposed to be staying there? She shivered at the thought, wishing they were home with the children. For a moment, her thoughts stopped churning and she wondered what they were doing.

She stole another glance across the shop, but he was looking out the shop window. Despite the distance between them, she could see through his forced bravado. He was right, they should ignore the letter and go about their day as if nothing had happened. Still, there was that nagging feeling that someone had been watching them. And not just in Vienna. The distraction of shopping had worked for a while, but it also reminded her how far away the children were. How much she missed them. She wished they could keep living in their own little world at the villa forever, away from the politics, the prying eyes and the cruel gossip. But, of course, they couldn't.

"Can I help you, Fraulein?"

Looking up, Maria smiled at the woman behind the counter, surprised to realise she was the only customer standing there and the two women were already halfway to the door. She passed the hairclip across the counter to the shopkeeper. "Could I have this wrapped, please?"

"Of course," the middle-aged woman nodded. She carefully wrapped the hairclip in tissue paper before placing it in a small box. Tearing off a piece of brown paper, she glanced at the serious-looking, older man who'd arrived with the young lady at the counter. Her eyes narrowed. _Captain von Trapp._ Quickly reminding herself it was rude to stare, she turned her attention back to her gift wrapping.

Recognising him from the photographs that would appear in the newspaper from time to time, she was surprised to see him in her shop. Several weeks ago, when his engagement was announced, there had been a lengthy article about the Captain, including an old photograph from his days in the navy. Cutting a length of blue ribbon to hold the paper in place, she stole a glance at the woman, deciding she must be his new fiancé. She discretely searched her hand and found a simple, elegant engagement ring. The young woman was sharing a look with the dashing Captain, who was far more handsome in person than in the photographs.

"This will suit you perfectly, Fraulein," the woman looked up as she finished tying the ribbon in a bow.

"Oh, it's not for me," Maria could feel her cheeks growing warm as she handed the shop keeper several coins. "It's for one of the Captain's daughters."

"Well, she's a lucky young lady," the woman smiled. "I hope you don't have too much more shopping," she said, searching in the counter drawer for the correct change. "The Captain already seems to have his arms full," she smiled as she handed over two silver coins and the wrapped gift.

"He'll be relieved when I tell him this is our last stop," Maria smiled, taking the coins and gift. "Thank you."

Turning from the counter, she walked towards Georg, who was now waiting for her by the doorway. "Perhaps I should carry this one," she dropped her eyes to the bundle of parcels in his arms.

"At least let me get the door," he started juggling the parcels to free a hand.

"I think I'd better," Maria smiled, placing a hand on his arm. He gave her a grateful grin as she pulled open the shop door, the bell on the door ringing above them as they stepped out onto the street.

Despite being the perfect autumn morning, there were still only a handful of people making their way along the footpath. They walked in a comfortable silence along the treelined street, which was just around the corner from the Hotel Imperial. This street would take them to Karlsplatz, which ran along the northern border of Resselpark, and just across the park, on the southern side, was Hede's flat. A few couples sat at the tables dotted along the street outside the cafés, enjoying the sunshine, despite a cool, gentle breeze taking the edge off its warmth.

"Can we stop at the bakery?" Maria turned to Georg. "We should get something for lunch."

"Of course, darling," Georg smiled. They'd only been in Vienna a few days, but the bakery around the corner from the Hotel Imperial had already become a favourite place to stop for pastries and a cup of coffee or a pot of tea. "It's on our way to Hede's."

As they walked down the street towards the park, he felt Maria's hand take hold of his elbow. Turning his head slightly, he gave her a wink. Her hand tightened around his arm, bringing a smile. He loved being with Maria, loved being seen with her. Loved her touch and that surge of ridiculous male pride that came from knowing that she was his. Or was it the other way around? There was no doubt that he was hopelessly hers.

Halfway down the street, the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread started filling the air around them. "As much as I love Cook's baking, I'm going to miss this," Maria whispered, giving Georg a nudge as they neared the bakery.

"Run inside, darling. I'll wait here for you." Wanting it to be a surprise, he hadn't yet told her about his honeymoon plans. After their days in Vienna, he just knew she'd fall in love with the Paris and its laneways filled with cafes. Not that he planned to spend much time exploring the city. There would be too many, much more delightful things to explore, and none of them would require leaving the hotel. His body tightened instinctively as the image of black lace falling from Maria's body rushed to the front of his mind. His eyes moved down her body at the thought of her seductive lingerie hidden underneath her new dress.

Unwittingly saving him from his wicked thoughts, Maria squeezed his arm. "I won't be long," she whispered, placing Liesl's gift on top of the presents in his arms. Returning the look in his eyes with a playful smile, she pushed the bakery door open. The small bell above the door rang out, announcing her arrival, not that it drew the attention of any of the customers. They were far too busy trying to make an impossible choice between the rows of pastries and cakes lining the shelves beneath the glass counter. Two women bustled behind the counter, trying to keep up with the customers. The wall behind them was lined with baskets, some still overflowing with loaves and rolls freshly baked in the early hours of the morning.

Standing back, waiting patiently, Maria glanced over her shoulder. Looking out the shop window, her eyes fell on the tables lining the footpath, their cheery red and white gingham check table clothes flapping gently in the breeze. A couple sat at one of the tables, sharing a large piece of cake over cups of coffee. The only other customer was a rather serious looking, middle-aged gentleman reading the newspaper over a pot of tea. He was so engrossed in the day's news, his eyes didn't shift as he reached for his teacup and lifted it to his lips to take a sip.

Her eyes left the man with the newspaper and searched for Georg, but she couldn't see him. Hearing one of the women behind the counter bidding farewell to a customer, she turned back towards the counter. "Could I have four cinnamon buns, four fruit buns and four slices of apple strudel?" It was more than they needed for lunch, but Max would eat any leftovers on the drive home, even after his lunch with the Baroness. She watched on as the woman behind the counter began filling brown paper bags with the buns and pieces of strudel.

Keeping out of the way of the customers as they came and went from the bakery, Georg stood on the footpath with his back to the window of the dressmaker's shop next door. Out of habit, his eyes scanned the footpath and street around him. A distant observer may have mistaken him as nonchalant, a little bored even, but his casual air betrayed the trained eye of someone methodically, skilfully surveying the surrounding street. His eyes scanned from left to right, then darted back, following any movement, identifying anyone who entered the street.

Ordinarily, he'd simply be observing, instinctively studying who was coming and going, watching what they were doing. But this morning was different. The arrival of that letter had brought a far more urgent and sinister edge to his observations. Maintaining his nonchalant façade, he searched for anyone who might look out of place, someone who didn't fit the relaxed Saturday morning streetscape.

Despite his efforts to reassure Maria, as much as he'd been trying to appear unaffected, he was troubled. Who knew he was staying at the Hotel Imperial? He always made a point of holding back personal details, of never divulging too much. Even with close friends and trusted acquaintances he would remain distant and deliberately vague. He'd learned in the past, conversations could easily be overheard, or seemingly unimportant information inadvertently passed on. Had he slipped up last night? He doubted it. Over the years, for as long as he could remember, he'd perfected the art of remaining aloof and detached.

Retracing last night in his mind, his eyes followed a woman holding the hand of a small boy. Such an innocent image against the sinister backdrop of what their world was threatening to become. Arriving at the ball, they'd met the dignitaries and their wives, then stood in the ballroom with Hede and Max. He bristled, recalling how people hadn't even tried to conceal their gossiping. They hadn't spoken to anyone else, he'd been too angry. Breaking his thoughts, he nodded and smiled at a couple who paused for a moment to acknowledged him as they walked past. He didn't know them, but then, often he never did.

Watching them drift along the footpath into the distance, his mind turned back to last night. He'd danced with Maria, then left her to join the other retired officers and current army leaders. Squaring his shoulders, he recalled the vocal arguments against taking action to protect the country against the Nazis. True, it had only been a handful of young officers who were willing to show their hand and align themselves with the Germans, but their support had been loud and vocal, drowning out any effort by loyalists to mount a defence of Austria's independence and proud history. It hadn't taken long for them to suppress most in the room who had earlier, privately, voiced a willingness to take a patriotic stand. In the end, many just looked on in silence, preferring to remain passive. At least publicly. Perhaps Max was right. Perhaps the older men in the room were just tired, their family's safety more important than defending their proud nation.

But not him. He'd be damned if he'd sell out to a madman, peddling his politics of hate and division. He hadn't held back, gladly telling the room what he thought of Hitler, trying to gather support for standing up to the bully across their border. It was an uncomfortable truth, but one he had to face. Because of their silence, once trusted friends and comrades were now effectively doing the bidding of the Third Reich.

In his mind, he worked his way through the faces of the men who'd been in the room. What did he hope to remember? Shared looks between co-conspirators? The guilty eyes of a traitor? He wished now he hadn't been so hot-headed. Perhaps, in his anger he'd missed something. He wasn't sure. But one thing was certain. More than ever, he could trust no one.

His eyes fell on a young man in an ill-fitting suit on the opposite side of the street. Noticing him earlier when he'd first entered the street, he had kept him in his sight. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and the man hurriedly looked away from him. A little too fast. He stopped, turned, and was now looking in the nearest shop window. Georg smiled to himself as he watched the scruffy young man take a keen interest in the shop's window display. Being one of Elsa's favourites, he knew that shop far too well. It was filled with the latest and most exclusive shoes from Milan and Paris. The youth couldn't have looked more out of place.

At the sound of a bell, his head turned towards the bakery door. He forced a smile at a woman carrying a loaf of bread wrapped in a sheet of parchment paper. She walked past him, for a moment cutting off his line of sight. As she moved further along the footpath, once again his eyes were on the man across the street, who was still feigning interest in women's shoes.

He wondered how long he'd been followed. He doubted it had only been since they'd arrived in Vienna. After all, he'd never made his opinions a secret and traitors like Zeller had never disguised their hatred. If he was on his own, if his arms weren't full, he'd already be across the street confronting the young man. But he needed to be careful. The offer of a commission in the German navy was as much a challenge to him as a genuine offer they expected him to accept. It was their first shot, a signal that the games had begun.

His head turned again at the sound of the bakery door's bell. _Maria!_

Searching the footpath for a moment, Maria turned her head and found Georg standing in front of the neighbouring shop, looking at her. "What is it, darling?" She could see something in his eyes, something that didn't match his smile.

He shook his head as he started moving towards her. "Nothing," he answered, not very convincingly. "Let's walk through the park."

Walking along the street towards the park, Maria glanced across at Georg. His jaw was set in that hard line she'd come to recognise. Something was troubling him. What had happened while she'd been in the bakery? Reaching the end of the street, she noticed Georg turned his head to look back along the opposite side of the street. He cursed softly under his breath.

Maria glanced at him. "Alright, what's wrong?" she stopped and turned.

"Keep walking, Maria," he slowed down, but didn't stop. He cursed silently to himself for losing sight of the young man in the ill-fitting suit. "I'll tell you when we reach the park," he waited for her to fall into step beside him before picking up the pace.

Walking in silence, Maria glanced sideways. Something was definitely wrong. His jaw was even tighter and now he was squaring his shoulders. As much as she wanted to know what had changed his mood so dramatically, she didn't push him. He'd tell her when he was ready.

Reaching the Karlsplatz, they stopped and waited for a lone car to pass, before crossing the wide avenue. They entered Resselpark on one of the paths that zigzagged the perfectly manicured lawns. There were more people, mostly families, enjoying the morning sunshine in the park than there had been on the streets.

"What's wrong, Georg?" Maria asked in a quiet voice.

"Keep walking, darling," he slowed his steps. "Don't react, don't turn around," his voice was low and commanding. "Can you do that?"

Maria turned to him and nodded.

"I didn't want to say anything," he whispered, "but we're being followed."

"Followed…?" Instinctively, she stopped, and was about to spin around.

"No, no…" his voice was low and commanding, forcing her to freeze. "Don't turn around, darling," he added, his tone softer, kinder.

"But why?" Her feet started moving again and she fell into step beside him. "What do they want?"

"Power, control, some Austrian trophies recruited to their cause," he growled under his breath. They stopped abruptly to let a small girl run across the path in front of them. "Remember what I told you this morning?" He watched as Maria nodded slowly. "I will never join them."

They started walking again, the laughter of a nearby group of children a jarring contrast to the seriousness of their conversation. "But what if you don't have a choice?" Maria asked, wondering how he could be so confident. "Georg, I've thought about it and I don't think I could say goodbye and watch you leave for the navy," she took hold of his elbow, and held on tightly. "I'm not Agathe..." she added softly.

"Maria, darling," Georg turned to her with soft eyes, "I'm not going anywhere. We're Austrian. I don't care how many letters I receive from that mad German, he can't force me to do anything. Especially join his damn, tin pot navy."

"Well, I hope so," Maria answered, still not convinced.

"Well, I know so," Georg told her emphatically. They walked along in silence, but he could tell her thoughts were still churning. "Please don't worry, darling."

She turned to him and forced a smile. "I'll try not to," she whispered.

"I have no idea what the time is, but hopefully we won't have to wait too long for Max," Georg was keen to get her home to the children and away from all of this.

"I know what you mean," Maria agreed, desperate to get back to the sanctuary of the children and the villa. "But it was good of Max to pay the Baroness a visit."

"Mmmm," Georg nodded. It always felt a little awkward talking about Elsa to Maria.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you that she congratulated me and passed on her best wishes."

"Who? Elsa?"

"Yes," coming to a crossing in the paths, they slowed down to let a family pass in front of them on the other footpath. "I must say, she was very kind."

"Really?" Georg mumbled. Max had said she was upset, but he hadn't been convinced. He was sure she'd still be angry.

"She even apologised for all the horrible gossip..."

"What?"

"Oh, no, no," Maria quickly turned to him. "She told me she had nothing to do with it."

"That's good to hear." Not that he was entirely convinced. In the past, he'd heard Elsa and her friends circling in on people, taking great delight dissecting their misfortune and the tiniest drama in their private lives, blowing everything up into a huge scandal. Perhaps it was easier to remember Elsa that way, rather than acknowledge his guilt for the way he'd led her on, for the way things ended.

"I do hope she's feeling better," Maria added.

"So do I," Georg knew that if anyone could lift her spirits, it would be Max. They had reached the southern end of the park and were waiting for the traffic to pass so the could cross the street. Grateful that Maria seemed to have tired of the Elsa conversation, they walked along the footpath in silence

"Georg?"

"Yes, darling?"

"We're almost at Hede's and I don't want you to be angry with her," Maria turned to him, her blue eyes wide and pleading.

"Angry?"

"Yes. _Angry_." She said the word with more emphasis this time. "I just want you to remember, I was the one who begged her to dance."

"Even so, she shouldn't..."

"Georg, Max was still with me. None of us had any way of knowing that we'd run into Elsa or that Max would end up having to leave," Maria continued. "I just don't want you blaming your sister."

They had reached Hede's apartment block and started taking the stairs up to the first floor. "Maria, I just think she showed poor judgment, that's all," Georg wasn't planning to cause a scene, he just thought it was important to explain to his sister that she'd done the wrong thing. He'd given her very clear instructions for a very good reason. And Max or no Max, it had been irresponsible leaving Maria just so she could go off and dance with some officer from the army.

Reaching the landing of the first floor, they walked to Hede's front door. "Before I knock," Maria turned to Georg, "I want you to promise that you won't get angry."

"But..."

"No buts, darling, promise me. Please?"

Georg stared into her wide blue eyes. She was beautiful, caring and wise beyond her years. And totally irresistible. "Well, alright then," he huffed, "I promise. But only because you asked so nicely."

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered against his ear. While he stood wondering if he'd ever be able to resist her, she knocked on the door. Turning to him with a triumphant smile, they waited for Hede to open the door. Looking at the door with a frown, she knocked again.

They turned to each other and waited.

Still, there was no answer...

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read! Thanks to everyone who's left a review, especially the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally.**

**Apologies for the delay in updating, but life took over these past weeks and writing had to take a back seat.**

**I still don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	9. Chapter 9

Maria strained her ears, desperate for any sound of life behind the heavy timber door. It was impossible to hear anything, so she held her breath, wishing her heart wasn't beating so loud. The constant pounding in her head seemed to be getting louder as the seconds dragged by. Her initial excitement at seeing Hede was now being replaced by a growing unease.

Glancing around the large space that served as part landing, part foyer for the flats on the first floor of the building, her eyes fell on the stairs. Hopefully, she had just popped out for a few minutes to pick up something from the shops. Surely, that was all. But she quickly gave up any hope of the heavy silence being interrupted by the sudden banging of the door downstairs and the pounding of shoes on the stairs heralding Hede's return. She turned back to the door. Hede would have been expecting them, so it seemed unlikely she'd go out at all.

There seemed more hope of the flat's front door flying open any second to reveal an out of breath Hede with her windswept hair and a warm embrace. Unlike her brother, the next smile, often accompanied by her infectious laugh, was never far away. It was her carefree spirit, her natural outgoing manner, that drew you in. It was the way she made you feel like you'd been friends forever, even when you'd only just met. In his own loving way, Georg had grumbled that anyone could be carefree and easy-going when they had little or no responsibilities. Regardless, she'd liked his sister from the start.

Even over her pounding heart, she could hear Georg's fingers drumming impatiently against his leg. As the silence hung heavy in the air, she didn't have to look at him. She sighed, already seeing that triumphant look of his, the one that said _'I-told-you-so'_ without him having to utter a single word. He'd keep his promise and not say anything, but still manage to gloat in that way of his she found equally annoying and amusing. _Did Hede have any idea?_ Georg's begrudging promise to be nice to his sister and control his temper was unravelling here on the doorstep. They hadn't even made it inside her flat.

"Where on Earth..." he muttered under his breath.

"Don't say a word," cutting him short, Maria turned to him, "please, Georg..." But to her surprise, there was no smug look. Far from it. He was staring at the door, wearing the same concerned look she was.

"Trust me, darling, I'd love nothing more than for Hede to make an appearance," he gave her a grim look. Delving into his sister's private affairs was the last thing he cared for. Max had mentioned something at breakfast, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall what. His mind had been elsewhere, and God knows, at the time it didn't seem important. Perhaps she _had_ gone home with the young officer after all. _Hadn't Maria said they seemed to know each other?_ Placing the armful of gifts on a side table beside the doorway, he stepped up to the front door and pounded several times with his fist, each knock echoing around the hallway and sounding louder than the one before.

"I don't think she's home," Maria whispered.

"Well, if she is, she must have heard that," Georg glanced at her before quickly turning back, ears straining for any movement. Leaning in closer, he shaded his eyes and squinted through a slither of clear glass in one of the narrow panels of timber veneer and ornate, etched glass bordering either side of the front door.

"Can you see anything?" Maria's question was a mix of hope and concern, with just a little optimism.

"Nothing," Georg answered over his shoulder. "Not a damn thing…"

At the sound of a doorknob turning, Maria and Georg spun around to the flat opposite Hede's.

"Can I help you?" The face of an elderly woman with grey hair pulled back in a tight bun appeared, half-hidden behind the partially closed door.

"Hello, Frau Stoltenberg," Maria smiled at the old lady she'd only met yesterday. "I hope we didn't disturb you."

"Is that you, Maria? Hede's friend?"

"Yes, it is," Maria walked across the wide foyer to the old woman's front door. "And Hede's brother is here as well."

"Captain von Trapp?" She squinted, her failing eyes trying to focus on the tall, dark shape beside Hede's doorway before giving up.

"Yes, that's correct," Georg answered abruptly, trying to hide his impatience. "How have you been, Frau Stoltenberg?"

"As well as can be expected for an old lady," Frau Stoltenberg replied with a weary smile. "Is everything alright? I heard a ruckus outside my door," she turned to Maria, "we're not used to that kind of thing, not in this block of flats, you know."

Maria shot a glance in Georg's direction, then quickly turned back to Frau Stoltenberg. "We're sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you," she apologised.

"That's alright, dear," the elderly woman smiled, opening the door. "But if you're looking for Hede, you won't find her."

"Why not?" Georg demanded, his gruff tone drawing another sharp look from Maria that he tried to ignore.

"Well, I do like to keep my ear to the ground, especially with my eyesight not being what it was," Frau Stoltenberg lowered her voice. "Not that I want my neighbours thinking I'm a nosy old biddy."

"Oh, I'm sure they think nothing of the sort!" Maria rushed to reassure the elderly woman. "You wouldn't happen to know where we might find her?"

"Well," she kept her voice low, "two men arrived earlier and spoke to her."

"Two men?" Georg stepped closer to Frau Stoltenberg, suddenly deciding it may have been wrong to dismiss her as a mere nuisance.

"I _think_ there were only two," she nodded, "I only heard two voices, but there may have been more."

"What did they want?"

"Like, I said, Captain, I don't usually listen in..."

"Frau Stoltenberg," Georg's tone was firm, but had lost its sharp edge. "I'd be grateful if you could tell us anything."

"Well..." the elderly woman looked up and down the foyer, making sure they were alone before taking a wary step out from her doorway. "I did hear strange voices outside my door. You know, Captain," she dropped her voice lower, "you can't be too careful these days."

Georg nodded in agreement at her grim understatement. He guessed from her surname that she had more reason than most to be fearful of the madness spilling across Austria's northern border.

"I was a little worried, strange men's voices and the like, so I did peek through the glass," she smiled as the Captain nodded in appreciation. "That's when I saw the men in uniform."

"Uniform?" Georg blurted out in surprise.

"Yes," she nodded.

"What kind of uniform?"

"I'm sorry, Captain, I couldn't tell. With my eyes, they all look the same," Frau Stoltenberg apologised.

"That's alright," Maria reassured her, but shot a concerned look in Georg's direction. "What happened next?"

"Hede answered the door. She seemed surprised, perhaps because she was expecting you," she gave a little shrug at the thought. "They sounded rather friendly. Actually, they mentioned your name, Captain."

"Me?"

"Yes. They said that something had happened, that she needed to go with them," Frau Stoltenberg nodded.

"What…?" Surely, the old lady was mistaken. "Something had _happened_ to me?" Georg demanded.

"That's what I heard," the elderly woman assured him, narrowing her eyes. "But you look fine to me, Captain."

"I am…" Georg agreed, tightening his jaw. _It made no sense._ "Did Hede leave with them?"

"She told them she had to go get her jacket, and then they left," Frau Stoltenberg nodded.

"How long ago was this?" Georg's fingers were moving beside his leg, his concern for Hede was growing by the minute.

"Not long, perhaps an hour," the elderly lady guessed, "perhaps a little longer. I'm sorry, I should have paid more attention," she looked from one worried face to the other. "I should have known something was wrong..."

"That's alright, Frau Stoltenberg," Maria forced a smile, despite the feeling of dread gnawing away at her. "You've been most helpful."

"Where did they go…" Georg mumbled, almost to himself, his mind racing. _What did they want from his sister? Where did they take her? Why? _His mind was racing."Did they leave on foot, or were they in a car?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know, Captain," Frau Stoltenberg apologised for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I did go to my sitting room, but these days, my eyesight isn't what it was. Unfortunately, the footpath is too far away..."

"No need to worry yourself," Maria reached out and squeezed the old woman's arm.

"Oh, but Hede's telephone has been ringing," the elderly woman's face lit up, hoping this piece of information might be helpful. "When the window's open, I can hear it from my sitting room."

"The telephone?" Georg asked.

"Yes, in the last twenty minutes, it's rung out three or four times," she nodded. "I do hope everything's alright. I really wish I could be of more help."

"I'm sure there's a good reason for all of this. It should sort itself out…" Maria wondered who she was trying to convince. _Why would anyone in uniform come to Hede's door? Why would they tell her something was wrong with Georg?_ Turning away from Frau Stoltenberg, her eyes followed him as he moved across the wide hallway to Hede's door.

Leaning towards the pane of glass bordering the door, he shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight and squinted through the etching. He didn't know what he hoped to find. Just like before, he couldn't see anything that might be a clue. Giving up, he reached for the door handle and slowly gave it a turn. To his surprise, it moved. _Why wasn't it locked?_ Pushing gently at the door, it opened.

"Oh, my!" Maria gasped from behind him.

His head turned to see Maria moving towards him. The door was barely ajar, and instead of opening it further, he carefully closed it, not making a sound. Placing a forefinger against his lips, he motioned for Maria to remain quiet.

"Stay here," he whispered.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Be careful," squeezing his arm, she waited for his nod, a promise of sorts, before letting go.

Carefully, Georg turned the doorknob and slowly, silently opened the heavy door. The door opened into a wide L-shaped hallway. Like in most of the flat, Hede's artwork and framed poems jostled for space on the walls. Off to the left was the large sitting room that ran along the front of the block. Bright sunlight from outside streamed through large windows that looked down on the street and across the park, then continued around the corner of the room. Standing in the doorway, he glanced around the cosy room with its open fireplace and mismatched sofas and armchairs. Amongst the jumble of cushions and throw rugs, he couldn't see anything out of place. But then, it was hard to tell.

Not sure if he was hoping to find someone or something, he silently walked into the room and looked around the furniture, the large Turkish floor rugs softening his steps. Satisfied the room was empty, he retraced his steps to the hallway and turned right. The dining room, which was next along the hall was much less cluttered, with only a large table in the centre of the room and a few side tables along the walls. Taking a tentative step, barely in the doorway, he carefully turned his head, looking along the walls for anyone who might be hiding. _Nothing._

Turning around, he continued down the hallway, the bright runner covering the timber floor muffling his footsteps. He stopped to glance into the small kitchen. A round table dominated the middle of the room, while benches and overhead cabinets lined two of the walls. Again, he craned his head around the doorframe, carefully looking either side along the wall. _Nothing._ Perhaps he _was_ being over cautious.

He walked over to the table. Today's newspaper was spread open, while a pot of tea sat to one side. He peered into the teacup. More than half full. Touching the teapot with the back of his fingers, he decided Frau Stoltenberg must be right about the time. It was stone cold. Glancing at the newspaper, Hede had only turned over the first page. It seemed she'd been interrupted not long after sitting down. _Where in God's name was she? _His fingers flexed instinctively. If they dared to touch her, he'd be certain to make them pay. And pay dearly. He balled his hands into tight fists at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, he moved down the hallway. Stopping, he carefully opened the door to the bathroom. It was a functional, compact room with no real place to hide. Leaving the door ajar, he moved on.

Across the hallway from the bathroom was the first of the bedrooms. Standing in the doorway, he turned his head, first left, then right, looking along the wall. It was a large room, despite being the smaller of the two bedrooms, so doubled as Hede's art studio and guest bedroom. Blank canvases were stacked in one corner, with a handful of partly finished paintings resting on easels along one wall. On the other side of the room, one of the drapes moved, catching his eye. It fluttered for a moment, caught on a breeze that had found its way through the small gap in the window.

Walking into the room, his eyes scanned the floor around the edges of the bed, falling on the armchair placed next to the bedhead. Maria's overnight bag lay open on its seat, the only sign that she'd ever been there, a reminder that this was where she should have spent last night. His fingers started moving at the thought. If things hadn't gone so astray at the ball last night, she would have been here when the two men arrived. He clenched his fingers into a tight fist. _Is that who they were really after?_

Grabbing the handles of the armoire, he pulled them open in a sudden, jerking motion, fuelled by rage at the thought of faceless cowards targeting the women he cared for most. Trying to shake off his anger, he recognised two of Maria's dresses hanging from the rail, but otherwise it was empty. Closing the doors, he turned and walked out of the room.

At the end of the hallway, a door led to the main bedroom. Hede's room. The door was closed, so he took hold of the door handle and slowly opened it. With the drapes partially drawn, the only light came from the hallway and a small gap between the curtains. Straining his neck, he searched for anyone who might be hiding against the inside wall.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, as he glanced around. The bed was made, but the pillows were roughly strewn at the head of the bed. Her gown from last night's ball was draped across the armchair in the far corner. Moving around the end of the bed, his eyes found her high heels kicked under the chair. He turned, making his way around the other side of the bed. _Nothing._

Walking over to the window, he tugged impatiently at the drapes, letting the midday sun stream in. Moving across to the built-in wardrobe, he pulled open the doors, hating himself for prying in his sister's personal space. Rifling through the dresses and coats hanging from the rail, he closed the doors, satisfied they weren't concealing anyone. Spinning around, his eyes scanned the room for anything he may have missed. Not that he really had a clue how his sister's room should appear.

They were so very different, but had always been close. Especially as children. She'd been his older sister, fiercely protective of him and his brother. Sadly, after Agathe's passing they'd drifted apart. It had been his fault, all his own doing. Truth was, he'd avoided her, ignored her calls. Even to this day, the many letters she'd sent were still unopened. She knew him too well, better than he knew himself. One of the few people brave enough to challenge him, the last thing he'd wanted was hearing her harsh truths.

His eyes fell on a photograph placed on the centre of a chest of drawers. Striding across the room, he picked up the ornate silver frame. He smiled at the three small children staring back at him, their innocence and wide-eyed wonder not yet tarnished by the ugliness of the outside world. As was usual in those days, Hede had her arm around him and Werner. He ran a thumb over the youngest boy, still wearing short pants. He must have been six years old, maybe seven at the most. Almost a lifetime ago. Thankfully, the awkward, painfully shy boy was barely recognisable now. So much had happened, so much had...

"What a lovely photograph."

Spinning around, he wasn't sure whether it was her words or the hand on his arm that broke his thoughts first. "Didn't I ask you to wait outside?" His words were much harsher than she deserved.

"I couldn't wait any longer," Maria gave him a little shrug and a hopeful look. "Did you find anything?"

"Not really," he sighed, replacing the photograph on the chest of drawers. "She wasn't expecting them," he patted the hand that still rested on his arm. _ An apology for his abrupt tone._ "She was having a cup of tea, reading the newspaper, when they interrupted her," he wrapped his fingers around hers, taking hold of her hand.

"You were close, weren't you?" Maria nodded at the photograph.

"Mmmm," he followed her eyes. "She was my big sister, protector, champion, guardian angel. Everything rolled into one," he sighed. "That was until she was sent off to boarding school."

"How old were you when she left?"

"Eight. Not long after that was taken," he reached up and straightened the photograph.

"You must have missed her," Maria turned back to look at him.

"Terribly…" his voice was low as he stared at the photograph, recalling a small boy's emptiness and pain. "I was nothing like Kurt at that age," he turned to look at her. "Much more like Marta, I'm afraid," he gave her an awkward look. "It was a few years later when I learned to take care of myself. It wasn't until I was introduced to the brutal reality of boarding school," he squeezed her hand affectionately. "You know, after that, I could never send the children."

She smiled at him. Months ago, he'd told her about his promise to Agathe. It had been barely a week after he'd returned from Vienna, when she'd blurted out the question that had played on her mind from her first day at the villa. She should have known there was more than one reason behind keeping the children at home. But like most things about her Captain, things were never straightforward. In fact, they were rarely what they seemed.

"I'm so worried for her, Georg," Maria whispered, not wanting to give her fears too loud a voice. "I hope she's alright."

"Come on," Georg's hand let go of hers and found the small of her back, "we're not going to find her here." He guided her out of Hede's room into the hallway and back to the kitchen.

Any other time, Maria would have started clearing away the cup and teapot from the table. But she couldn't. Not when they were the last tangible link to Hede. Instead, she held onto the back of one of the chairs. "What do we do now?"

"If Frau Stoltenberg's correct, Hede left with men in uniform," Georg closed the newspaper and folded it in half. "They could be army, but they could also be Gendarmerie*. God knows, they've both got plenty of Nazis in their ranks."

"Surely, there's something we can do?" Maria gave him a look of hopelessness.

"Come here, darling," he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. "I need to call someone, but right at this minute, I'm not sure who. We need to be careful," he buried his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes. "I just don't know who we can trust anymore."

Maria's arms tightened around him. "I hate feeling so useless," she whispered against him.

"I know, I just need time to think," he ran a hand tenderly through her hair. "Why don't you make a pot of tea?" He pulled back and forced a smile, watching her nod. It wasn't going to help find Hede, but at least it might take Maria's mind off things for a few minutes while he came up with a plan.

Turning to the stove, she picked up the kettle and walked across to the sink to fill it. His eyes fell on the brown paper bags in the middle of the table. The morning had started off so innocently. Breakfast with Max, a stop at the bakery, shopping for the children... _The presents._ He'd forgotten all about them.

"Let's try not to worry too much, darling, I'm sure Hede will be fine," he walked over to the stove, his arm snaking around Maria's waist as he kissed her cheek. "I'll go get the presents, I've left them in the foyer," his hand drifted from her waist, down over her hip. "Back in a minute."

Still staring at the kettle on the stove, Maria folded her arms. She'd only known her for a handful of days, but it was obvious Hede was strong and sensible. Still, she found herself praying for her future sister-in-law. These certainly were unsettling times. _Why would uniformed men come to collect Hede? Why would they mention Georg's name? Did it have anything to do with that man who'd been following them? Or perhaps Georg's invitation to Bremerhaven?_ Hugging herself tighter, she shuddered as questions tumbled around her mind.

She turned at the sound of the front door closing and stared expectantly at the doorway. Her heart sank when he appeared alone. Biting her lower lip, she watched him place the gifts on the kitchen table. "Georg?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why was the front door unlocked?"

"Hede knew we were coming, she probably guessed I'd try the front door when there was no answer," Georg shrugged.

"Oh, I see…" The sound of the kettle coming to the boil eventually caught Maria's attention. She turned away and lifted the kettle off the stove.

"Leave it, darling," Georg was beside her, his arm around her waist, whispering gently. "Sit down, I'll make the tea." She gave up without protesting, a sure sign she was worried. He hated seeing her trying to force a brave face. "Give me a few minutes to come up with…"

His words were cut short by the shrill ring of the telephone. Sharing a look with Maria, he quickly turned and walked hurriedly to the front sitting room. Looking around, his eyes fell on a side table in the corner of the room. Striding over, he snatched up the receiver from its cradle. "Hello?" he demanded, turning to face Maria who'd followed him from the kitchen.

"Georg? Is that you?"

"Elsa…?" His voice betrayed his shock at hearing her on the other end of the line. Maria dropped her hand from his arm. She went to walk away, but he reached out and grabbed for her hand, catching her wrist. She turned back to him questioningly, but he nodded for her to stay. He waited, but the silence on the line dragged out. "What is it?" he tried his best not to sound impatient, but Maria squeezing his arm told him he'd failed miserably.

"I don't want to bother you, Georg..." Elsa had been dreading this. Their first conversation since that heart wrenching breakup and awkward farewell on the balcony. Hearing his voice, it brought the painful memories flooding back. Fighting back tears, she'd stumbled to her room to pack. Fearful of seeing anyone. _Of seeing them_. A hurried departure with Max to a hastily booked room at the Hotel Osterreichischer in Salzburg. She'd been kidding herself. She _hadn't_ buried the painful memories of her retreat home to Vienna the following day. The long, lonely drive that seemed to stretch on forever. _God, right at this moment, it seemed like yesterday…_

"I'm sorry, Elsa," Georg softened his tone. "I really don't have time right now."

"I know," she sighed. "but please listen…"

"Elsa, this will have to wait," the impatient tone was back again. "I really need to go."

"Georg…" _She'd missed saying his name._ Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She was probably the last person he wanted to talk to.

"Georg, I'm calling about Hede…"

*** Gendarmerie – the name used for the Austrian police at the time. From the mid-1930s leading up to the Anschluss on 12 March 1938, the force was increasingly infiltrated by Nazis.**

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read. Special thanks for the lovely reviews.**

**Apologies for the delay in posting. In my part of the world, we're back in lockdown, which just sucks the life out of (pretty much) everything. I hope you, your families and friends are all safe and well. Praying that this nightmare ends sometime soon…**

**I don't own TSOM, just having a lend. I should also mention (it's been a while) that the inspiration for this story is the song "Someone you Loved" by Lewis Capaldi.**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	10. Chapter 10

"Georg, I'm calling about Hede..."

"Hede?!" Georg's frown grew as Maria's hand tightened around his arm, her eyes widening at the sound of his sister's name.

"Yes, Georg…" closing her eyes, Elsa paused for a moment. She wished she hadn't been dragged into whatever it was the von Trapps were caught up in.

"What do you know about my sister?" Georg straightened up, squaring his shoulders.

"She called us..."

"Hede called you? How long ago?"

"Twenty minutes, perhaps a little longer." Pausing, she should have expected an interrogation, should have known Georg would want precise details. Especially, when it came to the sister he adored. But her head felt heavy and dull. The lingering effects of last night's migraine would probably carry on into the night. "I've been calling her number ever since, but the telephone kept ringing…."

"Is she alright?" he interrupted abruptly. Staring into Maria's wide, blue eyes. They were a perfect reflection of own his confusion, concern, and questions.

"I think so…" Elsa's eyes closed against the bright light streaming through the sitting room window. Her head was starting to ache again. "Max is on his way to pick her up, they shouldn't be too..."

"Max? Where did she call from?"

"I'm not… well, I really don't know, Georg." It was odd, a painful reminder, hearing him speak to her so abruptly, so business-like. Like a stranger_._ _But then, how else was he going to speak to her?_ The world had moved on. _He'd moved on. _Still, it hurt. "Max spoke to your sister, then left in a hurry. He left straight away, so I don't have too much more…" Lifting her hand that had been nervously playing at the string of pearls around her neck, she pressed the pad of her thumb into the arch of her eye. The pounding was getting worse. "I'm sorry, Georg, I don't have many details."

"Surely, Max told you something?"

"I wish I had more, I really do…" She paused again, reminding herself he was worried about his sister. _That's all._ His impatience and anger weren't directed at her. "Max took off in such a rush, you see…"

"Is Hede alright?" The distant question, barely audible but filled with concern, hit Elsa as squarely as if it had been shouted down the telephone line. She froze. _Maria._ She was with him.

"Just a moment, Elsa," Georg's voice broke the lengthening silence. "They've heard from Hede, darling," his voice sounded distant, muffled. He must have moved the receiver away from his mouth or tried to cover it with his hand. Still, the softening of his tone, the tenderness in his voice, was obvious. "Try not to worry, Max is picking her up."

"Oh, our prayers have been answered…"

Those few relieved words, muttered by Maria, was the last thing Elsa could make sense of. Georg must have pressed the telephone receiver to his chest, in that way she'd seen him do time and again. All she could hear now was silence. Straining her ears, she couldn't make out any of what was being said.

As the seconds dragged out, she tried not picture the two of them standing beside each other on the other end of the telephone, reassuring and comforting each other. Images of them dancing at last night's ball somehow morphed into a scene in a sitting room on the other side of town that she'd never visited, and now, never would. She should have realised they were there together. Truth was, between her aching head and the anxiety of talking to him for the first time since that, well, since that _scene_ on the balcony, she hadn't really given it much thought.

Pressing her fingers against her perfectly styled hair, she tried to forget how he'd spoken to Maria so lovingly. Such a contrast to the way he'd spoken to her only moments earlier. _He'd called her darling._ She could feel her heart crushing, her chest tightening.

She forced her eyes open. She'd seen enough of them together last night, she didn't need to paint an image of them in her mind. Blinking against the bright sunshine streaming through the window, her eyes fell on a pair of blackbirds splashing in the small fountain that took centre stage in the courtyard. One of them flew off, landing on a branch in the maple that dominated one corner of the enclosed garden. This late into autumn, there were only a handful of brightly coloured leaves still clinging to its branches. She wondered why they hadn't given up like the others, why they couldn't just let go their hold. _Brave but useless resistance._ Didn't they realise, the autumn winds would win out in the end, sending them adrift, just like the rest. They always did. As the blackbird shook himself off, a fine mist of water floated around him.

Perhaps it was time to stop coming up with excuses, time to stop pretending to be brave. There was no shame in retreating. Not when the die had been cast and your fate was sealed. Why not let the strengthening Böemwinds carry her down the slopes of the Alps, away from Vienna to her Paris villa, or that delightful _petite maison_ on the coast? A compulsive purchase three years ago, she hadn't spent nearly enough time there. These days, it seemed even more inviting than ever. _Isolation. Anonymity. Alone._ Exactly what she needed. And more importantly, it didn't harbour any ghosts from the past. Nor would there be any reminders of plans cast adrift from a future that was no longer hers…

"I'm sorry, Elsa." Pausing for a response, Georg frowned as the silence on the telephone line dragged out. "Erhm…" he cleared his throat, "Elsa?"

"Oh…" _How long had he been trying to get her attention?_ "Yes, Georg…"

"Thank you for calling."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me," Elsa forced a brightness into her voice that she hoped might fool Georg. She closed her eyes again. It was easier to pretend he was here with her, alone, in her sitting room. Just the way it used to be. _The way she thought it would be._ "Hede said you'd be there waiting, wondering where she..."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Elsa…" distracted by something in the distance, Georg's voice drifted off. At the sound of the front door being opened, Maria left his side and was making her way across the sitting room to the hallway. "Can you wait a minute? There's someone at the door..."

"Yes, of..." she began, but faltered as her response was cut off by the clunk of the receiver being placed down on a hard surface. Distant, muffled voices drifted down the line. Once again, her free hand found the string of pearls hanging around her neck. She couldn't make out what anyone was saying, but they sounded happy, excited. Unsure whether she should hold on the line, she felt like an intruder. This wasn't her family. Apart from Max, they weren't even her friends. Well, not now.

A mere acquaintance. After two years, that's really all she was now. Somebody he used to love…

_And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes  
I fall into your arms  
I'll be safe in your sound til I come back around_

Maria was in the hallway as the front door opened to reveal a rather flustered looking Hede, with Max following closely behind. "Hede!" Maria squealed with excitement and delight. "You had us so worried!" Her arms pulled Hede into a warm hug, amid a flood of relief. Maria looked over Hede's shoulder, catching Max's triumphant smile as he closed the front door.

"Hede…" his sister's name caught in Georg's throat as he stood in the sitting room doorway. "Thank God…"

At the sound of Georg's choked voice, Maria loosened her hold on Hede. Both women turned their attention towards the sitting room.

"You're safe…" he gave his sister an awkward grin, his voice still strained. _Damn, he hated letting his emotions get away from him._

Stepping aside, Maria ushered Hede towards her brother. She came to a stop in front of him and gave him a smile and nod. Struggling to find the words, he reached up and brushed her cheek affectionately instead. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair seemed more in danger of escaping from its bun and hairclips than usual. But he didn't care. Reaching around her waist, he pulled her to him, burying his cheek against her hair.

The countless questions churned through his head. _Who took her? What did they want? Where did they take her? Why did she call Elsa?_ But they could wait…

"You're not hurt?" He finally stood back and looked into her dark eyes. "They didn't…" it was difficult enough thinking the worst, let alone saying the words out loud. "Erhm, well, they didn't…"

"No, no…" blushing, Hede shook her head. "It was nothing like that…"

"Georg, you're lucky I was on hand to answer the distress call," Max called out, any momentary awkwardness quickly forgotten.

"Oh, Max!" Maria shot him a grateful look before brushing Hede's windswept hair back off her flushed face.

Georg looked over Hede's shoulder and gave Max a nod of thanks. Of course, it was entirely inadequate, but between old friends, it was all that was needed. Turning his attention back to his sister, he almost missed most of Max's response. Some quip about extending his stay at the villa beyond his chaperone duties.

"You had us worried..." Georg's voice softened as he again brushed his sister's cheek affectionately.

"Didn't Elsa call?" Hede looked between Maria and her brother.

"Just a moment," he squeezed Hede's arm, "She's still on the line." _God, he'd almost forgotten about poor Elsa._ Striding back into the sitting room, he snatched up the receiver. "Sorry, Elsa, are you there?"

"Er, yes, Georg," Elsa gave a little start as Georg's voice brought her back to Vienna, back from a little terrace bathed in the French sun with sweeping views of the Cóte d'Azur. "Is Hede alright?"

"She seems to be," he turned to look through the doorway, smiling as he watched Maria ushering Hede towards the kitchen. Before disappearing completely from view, Maria turned back and gave him a look of relief. He forced a smile knowing she'd see right through his bravado. "Er, thank you again for calling, Elsa." _God, he'd almost lost his train of thought._ "It was such a worry finding Hede's flat empty when we arrived, so we are most grateful."

"Your welcome, Georg." It didn't escape her that he no longer referred to himself. It seemed, these days, it was both of them. Him and Maria. She couldn't recall him ever falling into that habit with her. Not even towards the end of their two years together.

"I'd better go..." catching the look Max gave him as he followed Maria and Hede to the kitchen, he turned away, looking out the window across to the park. _ God, this was awkward._

"Of course, Georg..."

"Elsa?" He reached up and tugged at this ear.

"Yes?" She cringed at how quickly, how desperately, she answered.

"Thank you, for last night..." he dropped his voice.

"Last night?"

"For speaking to Maria," the fingers on his hand were moving, drumming against his leg. "It meant a lot to her," he continued, "and to me," he added. "Thank you, Elsa."

"Think nothing of it, Georg." She was only now realising how much she'd missed his voice, missed the timbre of his deep baritone. She missed hearing him say her name, almost as much as she missed saying his out loud, instead of only in her head.

"Look after yourself," his words cut through her thoughts. "Goodbye, Elsa."

"Auf wiedersehen..." she whispered, and for a second time in as many farewells, the words were catching in her throat, "Ge-..." His name had only partly rolled off her tongue before being cut off by the heavy clunk of the receiver being placed back on the cradle. Tightening her grip on the telephone, she closed her eyes against the tears she refused to shed.

She stood still. For a few moments, perhaps minutes, she listened to the lonely echo of a constant, solitary signal down the line.

She'd been disconnected…

_I let my guard down  
And then you pulled the rug  
I was getting kind of used to being someone you loved_

"Alright, Hede," Georg called out as he followed the excited din down the hallway to the kitchen. Stopping in the doorway, all eyes turned to him. Maria was by his sister's side, holding onto her arm, fussing and making sure she really had returned to them in one piece, unharmed. On the stove, the kettle was being brought back to the boil after having been abandoned in all the excitement of the telephone call and Hede's return.

Max was already sitting at the table, his attention quickly turning back to the delicious aroma coming from the brown paper bags in front of him. "Mmmm, what do we have here…"

Ignoring his friend, Georg looked across the kitchen, locking onto the same deep blue eyes as his own. He went to say something, but stopped. Pausing, he reminded himself not to bombard Hede with questions. It would be difficult, but he had to be patient. "Take your time, I want you to tell me everything, every single detail, and don't leave anything out."

"Sit down," Maria tried to usher a reluctant Hede towards the table, "I can make the tea."

"There's no need to fuss," trying to brush aside Maria's concern, the last thing Hede wanted was to feel like some kind of victim.

"Maria's right," Georg stepped across to the table and pulled out a chair for his sister. "Please…" He motioned to the empty chair, his eyes imploring his sister.

"I'm in one piece, Georg," Hede protested. "I do wish you'd both stop fussing."

"Come on, Hede," Maria's voice was firm and gentle all at once. "You may not realise yet, but this all must have been a terrible shock," encouraging her to take a seat, Maria gave Georg a look of relief when she finally sat down.

"Really, I feel fine," Hede shrugged, looking up at her brother. "Although, I must admit, the whole thing is a bit of a blur."

"They're right, Hede," unable to resist any longer, Max leaned across the table and began to slowly unfold the opening to one of the paper bags. "It's not like this kind of thing happens every day. The shock is bound to…"

He stopped suddenly as Maria reached over and swatted his hand away from their unpacked lunch. Looking up at her sheepishly, she dropped her head to the side and gave him a look he'd seen her use countless times on the children when she wanted to bring their nonsense to an end.

"Let me get some plates," Hede went to stand up.

"I'll get those," Maria placed a hand on her shoulder, before turning towards the cupboards. She opened one of them, but it was filled with teacups, glasses and jugs. _Where on Earth did Hede keep her crockery?_ Shrugging to herself, she took out a teacup and saucer each for Max and Hede. "You stay right where you are," she called out over her shoulder, opening another two cupboards before finding the neat stacks of crockery. Taking out four mismatched plates that matched the mismatched teacups and saucers, she smiled at how different Georg and his sister were.

As if he knew he'd been in her thoughts, Georg appeared beside her with the children's presents, placing them at the end of the kitchen bench out of the way. She gave him a quick smile. Hede was back, but she was still unsettled. And she knew that he knew.

"For the children," Georg turned back to Hede.

"Just a little something for each of them," Maria explained, not wanting Hede to think they were spoiling the children.

"They'll be so happy to have you home, even more so when you appear with an armful of gifts," Hede smiled at Maria, knowing it would have been her idea. She might be good for her brother, but she was even better for the family. "I wish I could be there to see their excitement when they unwrap them."

"Come back to Salzburg with us," Georg blurted out.

"Yes!" Maria joined in. "You have to, especially now."

"I'd love to, but I can't," Hede could see it was going to be difficult to resist their invitation. "I have an exhibition next weekend, I couldn't possibly leave now."

"But after what's just happened," Maria frowned at her, not that she really knew what had _just_ happened, "how can you stay?"

"Maria's right," Georg walked across to the stove and lifted the boiling kettle. Maria had already measured out the tea leaves, so he carried the kettle over to the kitchen bench and filled the large teapot with boiling water. His sister was fiercely independent, but surely, even she could see it made perfect sense. Although, he had to admit, he still had no idea what kind of ordeal his sister had been through.

As much as he wanted to fire off a volley of questions, he had to take things slowly, had to remain calm. This wasn't an errant crewman, or a captured enemy being lined up for interrogation, or even one of the children. This was his sister.

"Those men who came for you," Georg placed the near empty kettle on a cool part of the stove, "what uniform were they wearing?"

"Uniform?" Hede's head spun around to her brother. "How do you know they were in uniform...?" she frowned.

"Frau Stoltenberg!" Maria and Georg answered in unison, turning away from Hede for a moment to look at each other, before turning back.

"They were Gendarmerie," Hede shrugged. "Who would have there would be a day when even they couldn't be trusted."

"Gendarmerie?" Georg snorted. "Kidnapping people from their homes is hardly the work of the police."

"You're right," Hede mumbled, nodding her thanks to Maria as she placed a strong black tea in front of her. "It turns out they were nothing more than Nazis."

Georg was still looking at his sister, but he caught Maria spinning around to look at him. Despite her brave front, it was so obvious that damn letter was still playing on her mind. As he walked back to the kitchen bench, he stopped to place a hand on Hede's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Maria had turned back to busy herself with the cups of tea, but the clattering of a teaspoon falling onto a saucer, drew his attention.

"Leave it, darling," he was beside her, placing an arm around her waist, his whispered words soft and tender. "Sit down, I'll get those." He ushered her across to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for her to take a seat.

Picking up two of the cups of tea, he placed one in front of Maria and the other near Max.

Carrying his own tea in one hand and the sugar bowl in the other, he placed both on the table. Still standing, he carefully measured out three teaspoons into Maria's tea. "What did they want?" Stirring in the sugar, the sound of the teaspoon against the china teacup hung in the air, waiting expectantly like the rest of them for Hede's response.

"You…" she finally answered in a quiet voice.

"Me?" His harsh response almost drowned out Maria's sharp intake of air. _But he'd heard it. _ He placed the teaspoon on her saucer and took hold of her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Not letting go of her hand, he pulled out the empty chair between the two women and sat down.

"Mmmm…" Hede frowned at her brother. "None of it made any sense."

"Of course, none of this makes any sense!" Despite his best efforts to remain calm, his rising voice was sharp and angry. "For God's sake, you were snatched from your home by Nazis masquerading as police. We're supposed to be in Austria!" At the touch of Maria's hand on his leg, he turned to her. "At least, I thought it was still Austria…" he added in a quiet voice. As the silence dragged out, he stared at his teacup and saucer. For a mad moment, he wondered if his sister had ever owned a full set of matching crockery. He turned to her with apologetic eyes, hating that he'd brought the Nazis to her home. Hating that he'd put her in harm's way.

"What were they saying?" Forcing the question out, trying to control his anger, his jaw tightened as he waited for her response.

"Well, the men who picked me up didn't say much at all," Hede stared back at her brother. Used to his outbursts, she knew they passed as quickly as they came. "They told me I needed to go with them, that something had happened to you. That's all they would say. I thought that's why they were taking me to Hietzing…"

"Hietzing?" Georg interrupted abruptly.

"Hmmm, I know, I kept wondering why you were there. I thought perhaps, well…" she paused and shook her head at the stupidity of it, "I thought they might have been taking me to Elsa Schraeder's." She shot Maria an apologetic look. "As much as I was wondering what might have happened to you, I couldn't understand what on Earth you were doing at Elsa's."

"Oh, Hede," Maria murmured, "it must have been awful."

"It was just so confusing," she paused, stopping to take a sip of tea, but also to clear her thoughts. "When we drove through Hietzing, we pulled up at a villa near the edge of the Vienna Woods." She stopped, placed her teacup back on its saucer. "A man got into the back seat with me…"

"A man?" Georg demanded, bristling at the thought. "Who was he?"

"I don't know," Hede shook her head. "I'm sure he was German. From Berlin, judging by his accent," she looked away from her brother, trying to forget the German's cruel, evil eyes. "It seems stupid now, but up until then, I thought something had happened to you, or Maria, or both…" She frowned again, "I guess, I really wasn't sure what was going on…"

"It's alright, Hede," Maria encouraged, her voice soothing. "Of course, it was confusing, don't blame yourself."

"We drove away from town," Hede paused again. "I kept asking why, where were we going…" she drifted off, struggling to recall what she'd rather forget.

"Take your time," Georg's tender voice barely concealed his seething anger.

"This man who seemed to be in charge, the one we picked up at the villa, he didn't speak until we got out of town," she continued, looking down at her lap. "When we were out in the countryside, he asked me why I was alone… I had no idea what he meant…" She stopped abruptly, sucking in a deep breath as she recalled the crude name he'd used for her brother's fiancé. "Maria, I think they were expecting to find you here with me," she quickly looked up at Georg and Maria, her eyes filled with concern.

"Me…?" Sounding more like a harsh whisper, the word escaped from Maria before she could stop it.

Hede nodded, turning from Maria to her brother. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She could tell by the tightening of his jaw how much he was trying to control his anger.

"Tell me what happened next," Georg forced himself to remain calm, his possessive hand had found Maria's leg, and now his thumb was moving slowly back and forth.

"He told me you had to accept their commission," the creases on Hede's brow deepened. "I had no idea what he meant. At the time, it didn't make any sense…" She stopped and looked at her brother, her eyes growing wider. "But Max told me…"

"Max!" Georg turned his attention to his friend across the table. Max had been sitting there so quietly, he'd almost forgotten he was there.

"What…?" Max smiled sheepishly. "We were talking on the way home, and I was hardly not going to mention the letter you received this morning. It seemed important given…"

"I don't know why you even brought it up," Georg cut off Max, knowing how much it was already playing on Maria's mind.

"You're not going to accept it, are you?" Hede asked.

"Of course not!" Georg answered bluntly.

"Georg…"

He turned to the quiet voice beside him. "What is it, darling?"

"I'm worried…"

"You don't need to be," his voice was gentle but firm. "You're safe. Both of you," he glanced at his sister before turning back. "No one will hurt either of you, not while I'm here," he reached up and brushed Maria's cheek, drawing a faint smile. "What happened next, Hede?"

"The German kept telling me you had to accept their offer. He said it was in _everyone's_ interest."

"Everyone's?" Georg scoffed. "Surely, it's only in Hitler's interest."

Hede shook her head. "You need to know, he mentioned Maria and the children…" her voice drifted off as she watched her brother's face turn dark.

"Oh, Georg, that's what I'm worried about," Maria whispered as she started wringing her hands in her lap.

"We can't give in to their threats," Georg placed his hand on Maria's, stilling them. "We don't even know who this mystery man is. He might just be some low-ranking Nazi puffing out his chest while he's away from home." He tried to sound flippant, but he was worried. _God, what was happening to the world around them?_ He needed to take more care, be much more vigilant. "What happened next, Hede?"

"Finally, we turned around and headed back through the woods towards town."

"Did they drop you off somewhere?"

"No!" Hede huffed indignantly. "We were driving through the streets of Hietzing, probably back to the German's villa, but I wasn't waiting to find out," she paused, taking another sip of tea. "We had to stop at a crossroads near the main street, to let a woman and her small child pass, so I opened the car door and ran…"

"Oh, Hede!" Maria gasped.

"I ran as fast as I could," Hede gave Maria a grim smile. "I kept running until I came to a coffee house. There were people sitting outside at the tables, I knew I'd be safe."

"You telephoned Elsa from there?" Georg asked, quietly proud of his sister's mettle.

She nodded, turning to smile at Max. "She lives nearby, and Max told me at the ball that he was hoping to visit her in the morning."

"And that's where I come in," Max announced proudly.

"Thank you, Max," Georg rolled his eyes at his friend across the table.

"No need to thank me, Georg," Max smiled back, ignoring his friend's look. "But, given my original lunch date was cut short before it really started," he glanced across to the brown paper bags on the kitchen bench, "perhaps we could…"

"Oh, of course, Max…" Maria mumbled absentmindedly as she jumped to her feet. "I'd completely forgotten." She opened the crockery cupboard again and found three large platters. The conversation at the table continued behind her, but she wasn't paying attention. Her mind was filled with the worst possible images, the worst of possibilities. She stopped and closed her eyes, holding onto the kitchen bench, as her thoughts swirled around.

"Are you alright, darling?"

It was Georg's concerned voice beside her, his arm around her waist, steadying her. She opened her eyes, nodding, trying to be brave, but failing miserably.

"I'm worried, Georg…" she whispered.

"I know you are," he reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "But I'm not letting you, or Hede, out of my sight. You're safe." He dropped his head to the side and forced a reassuring smile.

"That's not what I'm worried about," she answered bravely. "While we're away from home," she stared into his eyes, watching them slowly change. "What if they do something…"

"To the children…" his choked words finished her sentence.

**Thank you everyone for continuing to read and review. Special thanks to the guest reviewers, who I can't thank personally.**

**As you know, I don't own TSOM, just having a lend. And I probably should mention again that the title to this story and the lyrics woven into the chapter are from "Someone You Loved" by Lewis Capaldi.**

**Take care, stay safe and well during these difficult days, and remember to cherish your family and friends.**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


	11. Chapter 11

_Now the day bleeds  
Into nightfall  
And you're not here  
To get me through it all_

From the doorway, she stared across the empty room. Instead of being filled with the usual excited chatter and laughter, it was unsettling to find it so empty, so silent. Closing her eyes for a moment, images of happy faces flooded back. It was easily her favourite room in the house. So many memories, so many bridges crossed, and bonds formed within its walls.

Her eyes shot open. _What was she doing?_ There was no time for daydreaming. There were far more important things to take care of. Still, whenever she found herself alone here, it was impossible not to lose track of time. While she waited, staying a few minutes wouldn't hurt. It might help take her mind off everything.

The sun streamed through the window, playing across the patterned rug. The room was usually warm, especially after midday as the sun moved across the sky, but not this afternoon. She shivered against the chill in the air, hugging herself a little tighter. Admiring the artwork on the far wall, her head shifted suddenly, back towards the wall of windows, the movement of one of the drapes catching her eye. _An open window._ This late in the day, little wonder it was so cold.

Making her way across the room, she slowed as she reached out, instinctively brushing her fingertips across one of the side tables as she passed by. She stopped to pause for a moment at the second of the windows, the cold, frosty air meeting her with a rush. Taking hold of the window's cold metal latch, she pulled it towards her, closing it with a sharp bang against the afternoon chill. Even though it was cold, her hands found the sill, resting there while she took in the winter landscape. The trees stood bare and bleak, a stark contrast to the blue sky and sunshine. It seemed spring would be late this year.

If she closed her eyes, the picture looked far different. In her mind's eye, the trees were always laden with lush green leaves, casting welcome shadows against the hot summer sun. If she strained her ears, she could hear them rustling on the warm breeze, the sound of the birds calling out to one another as they planned their escape to warmer climates, waiting out the winter before returning to the same trees the following season. Those days held such fond memories. She missed them.

_Carefree, happy, innocent days. _

Staring out the window now, it was easy to believe those were the best of days. She sighed. It would be some time before life returned to normal. That simple life was a world away now. She wasn't sure where the past months had gone, but the bare branches swaying in the cold wind reminded her how quickly time had passed. The first green shoots of spring should have already made their long-awaited appearance, but this year, even spring was struggling to find a good reason to make a return this year.

She straightened the curtains and took one last look at the scene below. She'd wake up early tomorrow and go for a brisk walk. It would be cold, but hopefully the clouds and rain would stay away. She smiled to herself. Getting out of bed early these mornings was harder than ever. She'd never been an early riser, and now, well... Allowing that thought to linger a little longer, she turned her back on winter.

The pictures that hung around the room stared back at her. Still smiling, she walked across to one that caught her eye. It was simple, but the bright, vivid pastels were just the thing to lift her mood. The perfect antidote to soothe those nagging thoughts and concerns that kept gnawing away, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them.

"Hmm, I don't think we're nurturing the next Michelangelo..."

The deep baritone broke through her thoughts, and the hand on her hip that quickly followed brought a smile to her lips.

"Oh, I don't know..." she mulled over the thought, her head dropping a little to the side, assessing the merits of Kurt's drawing. "What is it they say?" The smile continued to play on her lips. "It shows _potential…_"

"Oh-ho! That's one word!" he shot back, his hand moving gently, slowly up and down her hip as he stood behind her.

"At least it's bright and cheerful," she answered softly.

"You're right, it's certainly that!" His hand tightened as he sensed her mood shift from playful to serious.

"The world needs all the colour it can get at the moment," her words sounded flat as she let go of her forced cheeriness.

"More of a Picasso or some such modern thing, isn't it..."

She smiled, knowing how much he detested the modern artists. _Could have been painted by one of the children._ How many times had she heard that, she wondered. "You never know…" she murmured.

"Mmmm, what's that, darling?"

"Artistic talent might run in the family," she suggested.

"Well, if it does, they didn't get it from me," both hands were on her hips now.

"How do you know?" She leaned back against his broad chest, revelling in his warmth, doubting if Georg had ever explored his artistic side. After all, that would mean exposing too much of himself. That could never happen. Not for this dark, complex man whose natural instinct was to remain guarded and distant. "You might be talented and not even realise."

"I'm afraid there are limits to my talents…" he whispered, knowing his warm breath against her ear would have the desired effect.

She shivered. But this time it wasn't from the winter chill that still hung in the air. Holding onto the arms that had snaked around her waist, she rested her head against him, enjoying the strength and comfort of his embrace. She could lose herself for hours, just being held, forgetting everything. But before his warmth and musky scent weaved their usual spell, she lifted her head.

"The children…?"

"Try not to worry," despite the sudden seriousness, his voice softened. Of course, she was worried. The children were never far from her thoughts, especially now. It's how he'd known to look for her here, trying her best to surround herself with them.

"But shouldn't we do something?" She went to turn in his arms, but they tightened around her, holding her in place.

"I'm not sure that there's a lot we can do," he rested his cheek against her hair. "I'm afraid we just have to wait."

"You're right," she closed her eyes, leaning further into him. "It's just that…"

"I know, I know," he sighed. "It seems like we've been waiting for hours."

"We should have called ahead," Maria bit at her lower lip.

"Perhaps." He answered flatly. His heart had wanted to call home before they'd left. He'd even picked up the telephone before reminding himself of the dangers that one call might bring. In the end, it hadn't mattered. Zeller and his band of thugs already knew of their return to Salzburg. He bristled, telling himself he'd deal with them later. "We can't change things. It's done now, darling." The words were meant to reassure her, but they were as much for his own benefit as hers.

"Still…" her voice drifted off, pulling up before she said what was on her mind. It was obvious the burden of his decision was weighing heavily, she didn't need to add to it.

"Frau Schmidt said they'll be home shortly," he tried to force a confidence into his words that he didn't feel. _God, who was he kidding?_ Certainly not her. Try as he might, it was impossible to pretend this was just any other day, that these were ordinary times.

He turned her in his arms. She'd given up trying to hide the concern in her eyes or the lines of worry on her face. _God, he needed to see that smile of hers. _

"We both wish the children hadn't gone to town," he brushed his fingers down her cheek, "but try not to worry."

She nodded. He was right, worrying wouldn't help. It wasn't going to bring them home any faster. "I'll try," she whispered.

He smiled. Her concern for the children was one of the reasons she'd captured his heart. Bending down, his lips brushed hers. He hesitated, deciding it best not to linger too long. _God knows, this wasn't the time to lose himself._

Hoping to distract her some other way, he held her hand and took a few steps along the row of pictures pinned to the wall before stopping in front of one. "What on Earth do we have here?" Frowning, he ran a thumb along his chin, unintentionally striking the pose of a seasoned art critic studying a masterpiece in one of Europe's great galleries.

"Oh, my..." Maria murmured beside him. "The children have such vivid imaginations."

"Has Marta squeezed us all into one of my U-boats?" He tried his best to ignore her hand on his forearm. "Or has one of the row boats sunk to the bottom of the lake?"

"I'm pretty sure those are the Alps in the background..."

"Hmmm, I think you might be right." _Oh God, now she was moving her hand up and down his forearm in that delightfully distracting way of hers._ He hadn't realised just how much he needed her touch. "It's definitely the lake."

"Oh, look at Brigitta's painting!" Maria tugged at his hand as she sidestepped along the wall.

Moving with her, Georg smiled at the large painting of the family picnicking along the lake. As it had dried, the paper had crinkled from the layers of water-paints. "They adore you," he turned to her.

"I think she may have lost count," Maria could feel his hot breath against her cheek, feel his eyes staring at her.

"The children would love a baby brother or sister," his eyes softened as she turned to face him. "I've told you that, darling."

She went to say something, but words escaped her. His darkening eyes sucked the air from her lungs. She opened her mouth. It was dry. She tried to protest, but the words never came.

"If we're blessed with more children," his finger gently pressed against her lips, "we'll all be so happy. The children will be giddy with joy." He cupped her cheek. "And I'll be the happiest man in the world …" his words drifted away as he bent down, capturing her mouth in what was only meant to be a small, gentle kiss. But it quickly became hungry and desperate. He couldn't hide how much he wanted her, needed her, had to lose himself in her so he could forget everything else.

His hand moved, desperate fingers clutching her hair. Their trip home had been long and tiring. For hours now, his body had been aching for her touch. These days, it always was. But today, more than ever, he was desperate for the comfort and relief she always gave him.

She moaned. Reluctantly, his lips left hers. Desire coursing through his veins, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms, carry her down the hallway and take her, chasing away their fears and worry in a blur of ecstasy and exhaustion. But he shouldn't. _Wouldn't. _

"You're such a wicked temptation," he purred, drawing a knowing smile. _A real smile._ She'd come such a long way from the blushing, innocent postulant. He'd come a long way.

"Perhaps I should go unpack while we wait for the children," Maria brushed his fringe back into place. "It might take my mind off things."

"No, no, stay here," Georg protested. "I didn't mean to interrupt you..."

He gave her a half grin, one that sent her heart on a giddy spin. He was so ridiculously handsome in his travelling suit. "You know you can interrupt me anytime," she whispered, giving him a little shrug.

"Don't encourage me..." he bent down and kissed her forehead. "They'll be home before you know it, you'll see," he gave her a reassuring nod. "Try not to worry."

"I know I shouldn't," she didn't even try to hide her concern this time. "But after everything, it's hard not to,"

"Remember what I've told you," he took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "The Nazis aren't brave enough to take on seven von Trapp children."

She smiled and nodded. "You're right..."

"Stay here, take your time, and I'll put the children's presents out on the terrace."

"You don't think it's getting too cold?" She hoped they'd worn their coats to town.

"They'll be home shortly," he did his best to reassure her. He looked back at Brigitta's painting. "The children love you so much," his turned to face her. "Never doubt it, darling."

She nodded slowly. "I won't," she promised, but knew only too well the nagging self-doubts would make their way to the surface again. This was all so new, all so strange. Some days, it was hard to believe this hadn't all been a mistake, some kind of accident, a happy dream that she would one day wake up from. So many other people seemed to think so. They all seemed to think Georg had lost his mind, or they just assumed the worst. Despite what her heart told her, there were still times when she was gripped by fear, expecting Georg and the children would eventually come to the same realisation.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Join me downstairs when you're finished here," he gave her hand a squeeze. "The unpacking can wait until tonight." Fighting temptation, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning on his heel and striding across the school room.

Maria's eyes followed him, watching him walk away from him. But just before he disappeared from view, he turned in the doorway and gave her a wink. She was still staring after him, long after the sound of his heels drifted into the distance. She hoped he was right, hoped that the children would be home soon. It had seemed like a lifetime since she'd seen them and hugged them tight. She'd spend just a little longer here, just a few more minutes, then join him downstairs to wait for the children…

_I need somebody to heal  
Somebody to know  
Somebody to have  
Somebody to hold_

Walking back through the foyer, his smile had already slipped away, left behind somewhere out on the terrace with the children's presents. Thoughts of their squeals of excitement and wide smiles quickly evaporated as he walked towards the front door. Hopefully, he'd been able to distract Maria. At the thought of her, he felt the familiar tightening of his body.

Pushing open the front door, he glared at the flag flapping innocently on the breeze. How dare Zeller and his cronies think they could just wander in and fly their flag from his doorstep. He despised everything that symbol stood for. The hatred, the fear. He refused to be bullied by them. Their heated conversation from Elsa's party came flooding back. He'd gladly bury his head in Austria's flag rather than be caught dead flying the ugly swastika.

Angrily, he reached up and pulled at it, tearing it from the pole. How dare they take advantage of him not being home. _Damn cowards!_ They wouldn't dare show up with their rag of a flag when he was at home. Still cursing under his breath, he ripped it in half. He wished Zeller were standing in his driveway to witness his defiance, wished he were there so he could throw the pieces of torn material at his feet. He'd tell the traitor to get the…

Looking up, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car. Making its way along the road towards the villa, it was still obscured from view by the high fence.

Instinctively, he squared his shoulders. _Who the hell could this be?_ He wasn't in the mood for visitors. They'd better have a damned good reason for showing up. Perhaps it was Zeller. Perhaps he'd get his wish...

_Now the day bleeds  
Into nightfall  
And you're not here  
To get me through it all  
I let my guard down  
And then you pulled the rug  
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved_

_A week later…_

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she gazed out across the water. A perfect flat stretch, it lay like a mirror reflecting the blue sky above. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. There hadn't been for days now. Yet another perfect winter's day. Crisp and clear in the morning, with just enough warmth by midday to have you peeling off a layer of clothing. Wrapping her arms around herself, she decided it might be getting a little too cool to be sitting out here without a jacket or something draped around her shoulders. Looking around, she wondered where she'd left her jacket. She must have taken it inside with her. Perhaps she'd left it in the drawing room.

She'd make her way inside soon, but not just yet. There was too much to think about, too many thoughts swirling around in her mind. She'd sit here for a while longer and try to make sense of everything she'd just been told. It seemed too farfetched, none of it made any sense. Surely, it wasn't true.

But then, everything had changed. Her world had been changing for some time now. Even as she'd tried to distance herself from everything, it was impossible to shut herself off completely. Who was she to question what people were saying? It was too horrible for words, certainly not something people would make up. The world seemed to have gone mad, seemed to be growing madder every day. In the end, it was much easier hiding away, pretending everything would be back to normal soon. She hoped so. Thinking back to the summer, it was impossible to have predicted the turn things would take.

_Those carefree, happy, innocent days._

Reaching for her glass, she took a sip. A perfect little Chardonnay from the vineyard down the road. Providing only a moment's distraction, her mind was quickly back to the telephone call, her thoughts circling around those words. What was it her friend had said?

_Georg and the family had fled. Disappeared._

It seemed surreal. But who would make this up? And why? Despite it taking some days for the news to find its way to Vienna, her friend was adamant every word was true. She'd even waited a few days before calling, half expecting to be told it was all a rumour, just gossip and lies without an ounce of truth. _It must be true._

Her mind drifted to her own _escape_ all those weeks ago. Desperate for a change of scenery, a break from Vienna, she'd happily left. _But Georg?_ He would have left Austria with such a heavy heart. Her reasons had been entirely different. For him, a commission in the German navy would have left him with no choice. She wondered if their exile would be any less lonely than hers. But then, sometimes you needed your own company. Of course, they had each other. And the children.

How odd that it unfolded on the night of the Festival. _Poor darling, Max_. It seemed he'd finally got his way. What a sad, twist of irony that he finally had a winning act. Normally, thoughts of her dear friend would have her smiling. But not now. Thoughts were tinged with sadness. Her fingers played with the edge of the table. _What had become of him?_ No one had seen or heard of him since that night.

She shivered. But this time, not from the cool evening air. She told herself, Max was a survivor. He could talk his way out of anything, turn any situation to his advantage. Still, these were anything but ordinary times. She knew some people, perhaps she could make some calls. If she were back home, she wouldn't think of it. It would be far too dangerous. But from her little cottage on the south coast of France, she'd be more than safe. Tomorrow. She'd make some calls first thing in the morning.

Reaching up, her fingertips pressed against her hair. She hated to admit it, but things had turned out for the best. After all, she was hardly built for trekking across the Alps, especially with seven children in tow. Georg falling for the governess finally made some sense.

A week had passed since that night. She wondered where they were now. Usually not one to waste time relying on divine intervention, she hoped wherever they were, God was looking over them. And if he wasn't, at least Georg had a good, strong woman beside him. The family would need all of her strength.

Wrapping her manicured fingers around the stem of the glass, she lifted it to her lips, taking another sip. Forgetting everything for a moment, she stared out across the Mediterranean. Why had taken her so long to make the move here? It really was a beautiful part of the world.

Thankfully, it was a world away from the turmoil back home.

_The End_

**Apologies for the time it has taken to post this final chapter. Life took over and most things had to take a back seat, including this chapter.**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this story. My aim was to paint Elsa in a gentler light and show her some long overdue kindness. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so thanks to those who have continued to read on!**

**Having started to slowly emerge from weeks (actually, months) of a second and extreme lockdown, thoughts and prayers with anyone currently living through a lockdown, or about to face one. Stay safe, stay strong. On so many fronts, 2020 has been one hell of a long, crazy year.**

**As you know, I don't own TSOM, I've just been having a little lend.**

**Also, a final shout out to Lewis Capaldi's "Someone You Loved", the inspiration for this story.**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**


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